


Tits Up

by tayryn



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Skyfall, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:43:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/pseuds/tayryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on assignment to recover stolen technology, Bond is betrayed, and his cover is blown.  Unwilling to abandon him to his fate, help comes from an unexpected source as M sends in a special team of agents to try and rescue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Peering around the corner, she spotted one guard lounging against the wall beside the secured door that was her target, lazily smoking a cigarette, all of his attention focused on the phone in his hand.

His gun, an AK47, was slung over his chest, resting again his hip. Another gun, a small handgun, was tucked into the waistband of his trousers, and he had an eight inch blade strapped to his thigh.

As expected, she thought.

She ducked back behind the wall. She tugged her blouse lower, then turned the ring on her finger so that the gem was palm side down, then removed the stone, and slipped it into her pocket.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself off the wall, then rounded the corner, stumbling just a little for effect.

“Oh! Oh, can you help me?” she asked in Italian. “I seem to have got myself all turned around looking for the toilet.”

The guard straightened up quick, pocketing his phone, and raised his gun. Seeing the petite red-haired woman ambling toward him, he lowered his gun a little. She was, he realized, Don Tommasino’s newest conquest, and he had seen her around the villa on the Don’s arm.

“Signora, you should not be down here,” he told her, in a respectful tone of voice, closing the distance between them in three strides. He looked her over. She was a little older than the Don’s usual fare, but still an attractive woman for her age.

“I know, I know! But I got lost looking for the toilet,” she replied, and placed her hand on her stomach, emphasizing her need to find the washroom, then giggled and widened her eyes. “I think I’ve had one too many glasses of wine.”

“It’s back upstairs, signora. Down the hall, fourth door on your right.” He pointed back the way she’d come.

She reached out, and grasped his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you so much!”

The guard smiled down at her, his eyes drawn to the generous amount of cleavage she was displaying. He understood now why Don Tommasino was taken with her; the man had always been a pushover for large breasted women. And this woman certainly had big tits, he thought.

She smiled as she righted her ring, noting the direction of his gaze, and counted silently to herself. She’d just reached sixty seconds when the guard began to sway, then fell to the floor, unconscious. She crouched beside him, and removed the set of keys hanging on his belt, then took his knife, the handgun, and the AK47 as well. She removed the nylon strap from the assault rifle, then pushed the man over onto his stomach, and secured his hands behind his back with the strap.

Standing, she quickly made her way down the hall to the door the guard had been guarding. Four keys later (it would have been quicker to pick the bloody think, she thought), the door finally swung open, and she stepped inside the cell, and hurried over to the cot in the far corner.

She crouched down beside the small bed, laying the weapons on the floor, pushing them under the cot, then laid her hand on the arm of the man curled up on the thin mattress.

“Bond.” She shook him gently, but urgently. “Bond, wake up.”

Bond, James Bond, rolled over onto his back. His eyes opened, and grew wide.

“M?”

Olivia smiled at the surprise and disbelief in his voice, and nodded.

“It _is_ you. I thought I was dreaming,” he muttered.

“You’re not dreaming. I’m really here. How badly are you hurt? Can you move?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing your arse,” she told him, then asked again, “Can you move?”

He nodded, and with her help sat up, panting heavily, and clutching his side.

Seeing this, Olivia quickly, but carefully probed his side. “Bruised, cracked or broken?”

“It feels like all three,” he answered with a groan.

She frowned, her hands continuing to gently move over him, as if trying to sooth the pain she knew he felt. “I’m afraid there’s not much that can be done about it.”

“I know,” James replied with a grimace, then made a move to stand.

Olivia helped him to his feet, and her frown changed into a look of worry. “How is your breathing?”

Bond took a couple deep breaths. “Little difficult, but I can manage.”

“Any other pain?”

He shook his head.

She looked at him closely, knowing he had a tendency to downplay his injuries.

“M. It’s manageable,” he told her. “So let’s just get out of here. The room service in this place leaves a lot to be desired."

Olivia chuckled, and shook her head. “Follow me.”

They crept out of the cell, Olivia leading the way, Bond following close behind, as they moved quietly down the hall.

“Your work?” he asked, as they passed the still unconscious, bound guard, and turned around the corner.

She nodded.

“Nice.” He remarked. “Q?”

“Yes. With a little help from Major Boothroyd,” she replied as they continued down the hall, then began to climb the stairs. When they reached the top, Olivia motioned for him to stop. “Let me make sure the coast is clear. I haven’t knocked everyone out.”

She eased the door open, and peered out. Not seeing anyone, she opened the door fully, and gestured for him to follow her. They moved quietly, and carefully down another short hall, then moved through another door and entered the garage.

“What’s your plan?” Bond asked her, holding his side, and breathing deeply.

“You hide in the boot, and I’ll drive us out of here,” Olivia told him, as she led him over to the nearest vehicle: a non-descript black sedan, and unlocked the boot. 

“And when the guard at the gate stops you?”

“I’ll tell him I’m heading into town to purchase a surprise for Tommasino.”

Bond nodded. “It’s as good a plan as any,” he said. “You also realize, the Don has most likely got a tracker on this thing.”

She nodded. “I’ve got that taken care of. Now get in.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Bond sat on the edge of the boot, then carefully eased himself inside.

Olivia watched him with concerned eyes.

“I’ll be all right, M,” he told her. “Just try not to hit too many bumps along the way.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, then closed the hatch, and hurried around to the driver’s side. She climbed into the car, then pushed the button on the remote to open the garage door, before starting the car.

She eased it out of the garage, then drove down the long drive to the gate, where she was stopped by the guard. She explained to the young man that she was driving into town to buy a gift for Don Tommasino.

“The Don has given instructions that you are not to leave the villa alone,” the guard told her.

“Oh?”

“Yes, Signora. For your safety. One of us is to accompany you.”

“Very well,” Olivia said, then gestured to the passenger seat. “I’m in a hurry. The store will be closing soon.”

The guard called out to another guard in the shack next to the gate. They exchanged a few words, and then the young man got into the car with Olivia.

She smiled at him as the gate was raised, then drove off the compound. Less than fifteen minutes later, they entered the city. With a flick of her thumb, Olivia turned the stone-less ring, and reached out to grasp the young guard’s hand.

“Thank you for accompanying me,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll be sure to tell the Don that you’ve taken such good care of me.”

“Thank you, Signora,” he replied, as he began to sway in his seat.

Five minutes later, Olivia turned off the road, and into an alley. She turned the ignition off, then glanced at the now unconscious man slumped in the seat beside her, and gave a quick, silent word of thanks for Q division’s ingenuity as she righted her ring.

Removing her seatbelt, she pulled the key from the ignition, then got out of the car, and hurried around to the rear of the car, and quickly opened the hatch on the boot to find Bond curled up on his side, knees tucked up to his chest, and deathly still.

“Bond,” she said in a quiet but firm voice.

There was no answer, and Olivia could not tell if he was breathing or not.

Oh god, please… she thought, as she reached out with a slightly shaking hand, and placed her fingers against his throat as she cradled his jaw.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his pulse beneath her fingers.

“James,” she called to him again.

He groaned, and turned his head, trapping her hand between his cheek and shoulder, and nuzzled his cheek against her palm. “M…” he murmured with a dopey smile.

Olivia shook her head, ignoring the sudden flutter low in her belly. This was not the time, nor the place for that, and she did not for one second think he meant anything by it; only that he was hurt, and a little lightheaded from the residual drugs in his system, and also from being locked in the boot.

“Time to get out,” she told him.

“Where are we?” Bond asked, grunting in pain as he slowly manoeuvred himself into a better position to ease himself out of the boot.

“We’re in town,” Olivia answered, as she helped him to his feet. She pointed to another car parked in front of the black sedan. “We’re continuing in that.”

“How did you…” he began, then shook his head, a hint of a wry smile on his face. “Never mind. You’re M.”

“Precisely,” she remarked, then reached out to steady him when he swayed suddenly. “Whoa, careful, 007.”

“Little dizzy,” Bond mumbled. “I’m okay now.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Olivia nodded, then reached around him, and grabbed a canvas satchel that was tucked into the corner of the boot, slung it over her shoulder, then turned to him. “Can you make it to the car, or do you need help?”

“I can make it,” he replied gruffly, and she bit back a smile at the slightly put out tone in his voice, as he stepped past her, and began walking slowly toward the waiting car.

“I’m driving, Bond,” Olivia told him, as she followed, shouldering the bag.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Came the grumbled reply, and he altered his course.

Both climbed into the car, an old bluish-grey, four door Audi. 

Olivia handed him the bag. “There’s a gun and clips in there,” she told him, as she tipped the visor down, and a set of keys fell into her palm. She slipped the key into the ignition, and started the car. “There’s also a phone. Once we’re out of the city, call Tanner.”

“You want me to check in?”

“Yes. It will be a novel experience for you, 007.”

James chuckled. “Where are we heading?” he asked, as she put the car in gear, and drove the car out of the alley, onto the street.

“Switzerland. I am hoping when Tommasino regains consciousness - ”

“You drugged Tommasino?” James interrupted her.

“Yes.” She nodded. “When he wakes up, he’s going to have one hell of a headache.”

“Serves him right,” James muttered.

Olivia nodded her agreement. “I’m hoping that when he tries to find us, he’ll assume we’ve headed for Orio al Seiro, and will head there first, expecting us to fly out from there, which will give us a head start.”

“Good plan,” James said. “And who do we have to thank for this car?”

“Gianni. He’s also how we knew Tommasino found you out.” 

“I wasn’t found out. My cover was blown,” James told her. “Someone told him who I was.”

Olivia frowned, then glanced at him, after switching lanes to pass a slow moving lorry. “You think it’s Gianni, don’t you?”

James nodded. “He’s the only one who knew who I was. If it’s not him, then we have a leak at Six.”

“Damn!” Olivia swore, and switched lanes again in order to ease onto the motorway ahead. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it just yet, and we have more important things to concern ourselves with at the moment.”

“Where in Switzerland are we heading?”

“Ambri. They have a small airport. We can fly out from there.”

“Why not Lugano? It’s closer.”

“Exactly. Once Tommasino realizes we’ve not flown out from Orio, he’ll send his goons to Lugano, expecting us to go there.”

“And by not going there ourselves, we stay somewhat ahead of them.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Seems like a good one to me.”

“I’m glad it meets with your approval, 007.”

Bond grunted, then asked, “And whose idea was it to send you in?”

Olivia looked at him. “Mine.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Any progress?”

Olivia looked up with a smile as Gareth Mallory entered her office. “That question suggests 007 has checked in. And I would have thought by now that you’d have learned that - ”

“That Bond rarely, if ever, checks in,” Gareth finished for her.

“Exactly.”

Mallory conceded her point with a smile, and a nod, then sat when she waved him into one the chairs in front of her desk.

“That said,” Olivia continued with a slight smile, “Bond did check in yesterday. Late in the evening, after you’d gone home.”

“Has he found the missing defense program software?”

“Not yet. Tommasino doesn’t completely trust him yet, so he’s never left alone for long.”

“That’s a hindrance.”

“Yes it is. But Bond will find a way. He usually does.”

There was a sudden, quick rap on her office door before it opened, and Tanner rushed in. “Ma’am, we have a problem.”

“What it is, Tanner?”

“I just got off the phone with Bond’s contact in Como. Bond’s cover’s been blown.”

“What?! How?” Olivia asked, shock and worry on her face.

“We don’t know. All Gianni could tell me is that Tommasino had his men throw Bond in a cell. He’s been drugged and tortured.”

“Shit!” Olivia swore, as she pushed her chair back from her desk, and stood. She turned sharply, angrily, and stepped over to the large window, and stared out at the Thames. She placed her hand on the cool glass, and watched it fog around the ends of her fingers; absurdly grateful that her office had been rebuilt and repaired after Silva’s stunt with the gas had destroyed it.

“What are we going to do?” Mallory asked.

“We’ll send someone in to get him out, and hopefully find the missing software as well,” Olivia answered, still staring out the window.

“Who?” Tanner spoke up. “All the Double-0s are on assignment, and you said yourself that none of the other agents were qualified for this level of undercover work.”

“And I’ve not changed my mind on that matter.”

“Then who are you going to send to get James out?” Tanner asked.

After a few moments of silence, Olivia slowly turned around to face the two men, and smiled. “Me.”

“WHAT!?”

“YOU’RE JOKING!”

Mallory and Tanner exclaimed at the same time.

“Ma’am, you can’t be serious,” Tanner said.

“I am quite serious, Tanner,” she replied, as she moved back to her desk, and sat down in her chair. “We don’t have time to bring another agent up to speed, and we don’t want to send a team in to simply break him out, as that will simply open up a whole new can of worms. No, the simplest solution is for me to go in, undercover, and get him out. And if possible, find the defense program as well.”

“M, surely there’s another option,” Mallory remarked.

“If either of you have any better suggestions, then now’s the time to speak up.” Olivia held her hands out, inviting them both to voice their suggestions.

“Well…” Tanner began, then stopped, and glanced at Mallory.

“Perhaps we could…” Mallory took up for Tanner, then trailed off with a shrug.

Both men sighed.

“Exactly,” Olivia responded with a slight smirk when both fell silent. “Believe me, gentlemen, I have considered every option, and this is the only viable one we have if we are to get 007 out of Tommasino’s hands in a timely fashion.”

“So, what is your plan?” Mallory asked.

“As you know, Tommasino has a penchant for a certain type of woman,” Olivia began, and bit back an amused smile when both Mallory and Tanner’s eyes involuntarily dropped to her chest. When they brought their gazes back to hers, she continued, “With the right outfit, and a wig, it should not be too difficult to catch his eye. Especially with Gianni’s help. I speak Italian, so there is no issue there.”

“That seems reasonable,” Mallory said.

“But what happens when you do catch the Don’s eye?” Tanner asked, his face a mask of concern and worry. “How will you find Bond? What will you do when you do find him? And if he’s hurt, how will you get him out? I’m sorry to say this, Ma’am, but you won’t be physically able to move him.”

“We know where the cells are, so that’s not a problem.”

“No, but how will you get down there?”

“I’ll figure something out, Tanner. I was a Double-0 once, remember?”

“I know that, Ma’am,” Tanner said. “I’m just trying to cover all bases. As your Chief of Staff, it’s my job.”

“I know, Bill, and I appreciate it.” Olivia smiled, then grew thoughtful. “When Major Boothroyd was in charge of Q Division, he came up with a very powerful, fast acting knockout drug. One that could be administered in a variety of ways: dissolved in liquid, injected into the body, and one or two others. The formula should be in Q Division’s archive. Have young Q dig it up, and prepare some for me. Enough to knock out several people.”

“And the delivery system for the drug?” Mallory inquired.

“For up close injecting, a very gaudy ring,” she suggested. “It would suit the character I have in mind of becoming. In fact, I think I still have the ring Q made for me when I was a Double-0.”

“And a second option, in case you can’t get close to anyone?”

“A vial of some kind so I can mix a few drops into a drink if I need to. Perhaps in a bracelet of some sort, this way it’s always with me. Or perhaps in a charm on a necklace.”

“Good idea.” Both Mallory and Tanner nodded their approval.

“When do you want to leave, Ma’am?” Tanner asked.

“The sooner the better,” Olivia answered. “James’ life depends on it.”

“You never answered my question about what you’ll do if Bond is badly injured. How will you get him out of there?” Tanner inquired.

Olivia sighed. “I don’t know, Tanner. We’ll just have to hope that they’ve not hurt him too badly, and that he’ll be able to get out under his own power.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Think positive, Tanner,” she told him.

“I’m trying, M.”

“I know, Bill.” She nodded, then smiled. “I promise you, I will not take any unnecessary risks; unlike the man I’m going in to rescue.”

Tanner returned her smile. “That’s very good to hear, M.”

“I’d like you to speak with Q, have him look up that drug, and make up a batch. After you do that, I want you find me half a dozen older women, around my age, from within Six. They’re going to be my travel group. A bunch of friends traveling to Lake Como for a holiday. And then I want you to get in touch with Gianni; tell him that we’re going to be there.”

“And whatever you to, don’t tell him it’s M.” Mallory said.

Tanner shook his head. “No, of course not,” he responded, and shot Mallory a dirty look. “I am not stupid. I’ve been doing this long enough to know better than to do that,” he told the other man, then looked back to Olivia. “How long are the ladies going to be there?”

“Only until Tommasino’s interest is piqued; then I want them out of Italy, and back in England,” Olivia told him.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tanner replied, then got to his feet. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Thank you, Bill,” she said. “Oh, and please have Eve find me a red wig, preferably a curly one, and somewhat garish if she can manage it.”

Tanner nodded, then left the office.

Olivia looked at Mallory. “You’ll look after things while I’m gone. It will be a good practice run for you for when I retire, and you take over.”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here.”

“Thank you,” she said, then smirked. “Just try not to step on Tanner’s toes. He can make your life a living hell if he’s a mind to.”

Mallory had the grace to look a little sheepish as he nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“He’s a good man, Gareth. Trust him. Trust his instincts. If you earn his loyalty, he will serve you faithfully, and work his arse off for you.”

“I will,” Mallory said, then asked, “Are you certain you should be doing this, M? Going after Bond?”

“Yes. Tommasino is most likely expecting a team to storm his villa in an attempt to rescue Bond, which is why my going in will work. It’s unexpected.”

“True,” Mallory agreed. “It is unexpected, but what happens if you’re caught, and Tommasino figures out who you really are?”

“Odds are, he’d torture me.”

“Exactly. The head of MI6 in the hands of the head of one of Italy’s top crime families would be too much of an opportunity to pass up, especially given all you know.”

“Then I’ll have to make certain I’m not caught. But if I am, then I’ll expect you to send in a team to eliminate him. I don’t care if they blow up the villa. We’d lose the software, but at least it would not fall into terrorist hands, which we know is his intention.”

“All right.” Mallory nodded his agreement. “And what of you and Bond? We’d lose you both as well.”

“If they can get us out, then by all means… but we’re not to be the priority. Stopping Tommasino is,” she told him. “He knows we’re aware he has the program, and that we’re looking for it. It’s obviously why Bond’s been taken. If he hasn’t already put out feelers to sell it, he will soon. And it will only be a matter of time before he kills 007.”

“I agree.”

“That’s why I need to get out there as soon as possible,” Olivia said.

Mallory regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “What’s the other reason?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What’s the other reason you’re doing this, M? If there is even the slightest chance you could be found out, and given that Bond’s cover was blown, there is a very real chance yours could be as well, then why not simply send in a team to rescue Bond now, and recover the stolen program? Or, simply eliminate Tommasino, and blow up the villa as you suggested? Surely that would be the proper procedure for this sort of thing?”

Olivia sighed.

Mallory had a point. There were procedures to follow for when an agent was caught. It was how she had almost lost Bond last year.

_“Take the bloody shot!”_

The words echoed in her mind.

_“It was the possibility of losing you, or the certainty of losing all those other agents. I made the only decision I could, and you know it.”_

Olivia closed her eyes.

As far as the SIS was concerned, the greater good superseded the welfare of a single agent. While the government never liked losing a good agent, and god knows James was the best agent they had, in the end, he was expendable in their eyes.

In her eyes, however, James wasn’t expendable.

She would not give up on him so easily this time.

“I need to do this, Gareth,” she said softly, opening her eyes to look at him. “James would do no less for me, and has done already.”

“Skyfall,” Mallory stated.

“Yes. Skyfall.” Olivia nodded.

“You _are_ sentimental about him,” he said in a quiet, thoughtful tone, quite different from when he’d first said those words to her.

“Yes. I suppose I am.”

“Is that all it is?”

Her head snapped up, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, which remained unsaid as she saw that he was not tying to bait her in any way, but was asking out of genuine concern.

Olivia shook her head. She could not deny it, but neither could she admit it aloud. She did care for James in more than a just professional capacity.

Mallory nodded.

“The PM and other ministers won’t like you doing this.”

“They don’t have to know. And if they do find out, they can kiss my wrinkled arse! I am not abandoning, 007! Not again.”


	3. Chapter 3

A low groan pulled her attention from the long stretch of road before her, and out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw James shift in his seat, and grimace in pain.

“Are you all right?” she asked softly.

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” he replied. “It’s not the first time I’ve been hurt, and it won’t be the last.”

Olivia frowned at the dismissive tone of his voice. She was worried about him. Without stopping to think about her actions, she reached out and laid her hand on his forehead.

“M…” Bond wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and gently tugged her hand away. “I’m all right.”

“You’re awfully warm, James.”

There was no response, and she realized he was still holding her wrist. She looked over at him again, then swore under her breath.

“How did you get these?” he asked her, in a quiet voice, rubbing his thumb lightly over the bruising on the inside of her wrist.

“The Don got a little frisky before I could slip him the drug,” she answered, tugging her hand free from his grasp.

“Did he force himself on you?

“No!”

“Then how - ” He gestured at her wrists.

“I told you, he got frisky.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

She was surprised by the venom she could hear in his voice. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he was jealous, but she immediately dismissed that thought, knowing it was foolish of her to even think it. He was simply asking out of concern for his superior, knowing Tommasino’s reputation where women were concerned.

“No. I did not sleep with him,” Olivia responded. “Yes, I seduced him. Yes, I was in his bedroom, where I led him to believe I would be having sex with him. It’s part of the job, 007. You, more than anyone, know that.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“But no, I did not have sex with him, though not for his want of trying.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bond’s hand clench on his thigh. “I’d spiked a glass of his wine during lunch, but he did not drink as much of it as I had hoped, so I had to resort to injecting him with the ring, which proved a little tricky - ”

“Especially with him holding your wrists,” James pointed out.

“Yes.”

“How did you manage it?”

“I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Olivia replied dryly.

“M.” Bond scowled, and shot her a dirty look.

“007, all you need to know is that I managed to drug him, and rescue you from that cell,” Olivia said shortly. “Which was the objective.”

“What about the defense program software? Tommasino still has that.”

Olivia smiled, and reached inside the top of her sundress, then held up a flash drive.

“You found it!?”

“I found it.”

“Where was it?”

“In his pocket. It seems he does not trust his men as fully as he lets them believe.”

“Are you certain that’s the one?”

“Yes.” She handed it to him. “It’s got the markings we were told were on it,” she told him as he looked it over. “I also overheard him talking with a possible buyer, and saw him show it to the other man.”

“Convenient.”

“Very,” Olivia agreed with a nod, taking it back from him, and slipping it back into her top. “So, after I drugged him, I retrieved the flash drive, then I made my way to where they were keeping you, and here we are.”

“Here we are, and we’re being followed.”

“What?!”

“Three cars back. Black sedan.”

“Fuck!”

“You took the word right out of my mouth.”

“How the hell can they be following us?”

“The same way that Tommasino knew I was an agent for Six.”

“Gianni,” she said sadly.

“Gianni.” James nodded. “He must have placed a tracker on the car.”

Olivia sighed, then swore harshly.

“We’re what, fifteen minutes out of Lugano?”

“About that, yes.”

“All right, without making it look obvious, start to speed up. We’ll lose them in the city, then continue on to Ambri.”

Olivia nodded, then slowly pressed the gas peddle to the floor. “We’ll have to find new transport.”

“Yes.” He glanced in the wing mirror. “Have you been to Lugano before?”

“A long time ago.”

“Estival Jazz is happening now.”

“That means large crowds.”

“Exactly.”

Olivia spared him a quick glance, and smiled. She knew just what he was thinking. “Good plan, 007.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied. His brow furrowed as he continued to look at her.

“What it is?”

“Please tell me that’s a wig you’re wearing, or a very temporary rinse.”

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“No. I prefer your white hair.”

Olivia pulled off the wig, and tossed it in the back seat, then ran her fingers through her short, white hair to fluff it up. “Better?”

“Much better,” James replied. “Now you look like my M.”

She ignored the rush of pleasure his words gave her.

“It should also help to confuse the goons following us.”

“Until they see you.”

“I’ll take care of that when we get to Lugano.”

“All right,” she said, then returned her full attention to her driving, weaving in and out of traffic smoothly, continuing to increase her speed in the hopes of putting more distance between them and Tommasino’s men.

She knew they would not lose them while in the car, thanks to the tracker, but she hoped to gain a little more time so they could lose them in the crowds of people as James had suggested, then find another car to get them to Ambri.

However, she was concerned about James. She could see his ribs were killing him, even though he tried to hide it, and she worried what would happen if he had to actually engage with the other men.

Hopefully it won’t come to that, she thought to herself.

“Head for the Burger King,” James told her when she pulled off the motorway five minutes later. “We’ll leave the car in the car park there.”

“All right.” Olivia nodded, and following his directions, drove the car through the streets of Lugano, and turned into the fast food restaurant’s car park a few minutes later.

As soon as she killed the engine, both she and James undid their seatbelts, and got out of the car.

“Do you have the bag?” she asked.

James held it up, then slung it over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry it?”

He just frowned at her, then reached for her hand. “Come on.”

They walked quickly out of the car park, and disappeared into the crowd.

“We should find a car hire place,” Olivia told him, as she continued to glance back over her shoulder, checking to see if they were being followed, trusting James to guide them through the throng of people, ignoring how right it felt to be holding his hand.

“I have a better idea,” Bond replied.

“And that is?”

“How do you feel about trains, M?”

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up.

“It’d take us longer to get home, but at least we’d have some measure of comfort.”

“And you could move around more, which would be better for your ribs.” She nodded. “All right, the train it is. Lead the way, 007.”

They moved with the crowd, Olivia flinching each time a random elbow from a passing stranger caught James in the side. He did not complain, and simply continued to lead her through the mob of tourists come to enjoy the annual Jazz festival, however she could see how each blow hurt him.

Ten minutes later, Olivia saw the sign on the front of the building - Stazione di Lugano - and breathed a sigh of relief. The sooner they got their tickets, the sooner they could relax, and the sooner James could rest.

They entered the station, and made their way to the ticket counter.

“Shit!” Olivia muttered under her breath when the clerk advised them the sleeper train would not be leaving until seven-thirty that night, but that the regular train was due to leave in an hour. “Let’s do that, Bond. We can transfer in Ambri to the sleeper, or even see about renting a car there, and driving to London.”

“All right,” Bond said, then turned back to the clerk. “I’ll take two to Ambri. And can we buy for the sleeper train now, or do I have to buy them in Ambri?”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t transfer in Ambri. For the night train, you will need to transfer in Lucerne.”

Olivia shrugged. It would add an extra hour and a half to their journey, but it seemed they had little choice.

“That’s fine. Can we buy the tickets now?”

“Yes, you can purchase that now, sir,” the clerk responded, then frowned. “Oh. Oh, it looks like there’s only one Single Deluxe compartment left on the sleeper.”

“That’s fine. We’ll take it,” Olivia told her, then once the young woman had given them the total cost, she handed over her credit card, which she had fished from inside the bag James still had slung over his shoulder.

Five minutes later, they were walking along the concourse, heading for the platform.

“Do you think they’ll figure out we’ve not gone to the airport?” Olivia asked him.

“Not right away. No. But they will.”

“Hopefully not until the train’s pulling out of the station,” she said.

“That would be ideal, yeah.”

“Very.”

As they continued walking through the concourse, Olivia could not stop herself from glancing around, searching the people milling about the station for any she recognized.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a change of clothes,” Bond said, then mumbled, “And a shower.”

She glanced down at her dress; she’d only put it on that morning, but she could smell Vito’s cologne all over it. Then she looked Bond over. He’d been in Tommasino’s cell for two weeks, and looked it; his clothes wrinkled and unkempt, his face scruffy and unshaven, his hair messy and dirty. Yes, he definitely needed a shower.

“I don’t think we have enough time for the shower, but I do think we can at least manage some new clothes,” she told him, and gestured to a small clothing boutique. “Because, yes, I would like a new dress.”

He smiled at her, then steered them in the direction of the store.

“Nothing fancy now,” Olivia said. “Just grab something that’s clean and fits. Maybe we’ll have time in Lucerne, before transferring to the sleeper, to buy some proper clothes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They entered the small store, and walked out again twenty minutes later with clean clothes, along with a few toiletries stuffed in the canvas bag James insisted on carrying, and made their way to their train, just in time to hear the first boarding call.

Hurrying their pace, they joined the queue of passengers waiting to get on the train.

“007, are you all right?” Olivia enquired once they’d found their car, and were seated. He seemed to be a little short of breath, and she noticed he was cradling his left side. “The truth.”

Bond sighed. “A little sore,” he admitted. “But it’s nothing really. Sitting down for a spell will help.”

“Let me know if that changes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

Ten minutes passed, and they felt the train shudder as it began to roll.

“We got our wish.”

“What…” she began then followed his gaze out the window to see two of Tommasino’s men standing in the car park, watching the train as it pulled out of the station, staring intently at the windows.

“Damn!” James swore when one of the men pointed at the train, and the other pulled out their mobile. He turned his head, as the train passed the two men, and saw the one not on the phone hold up something in front of the other’s face. “Don Tommasino is now aware that you’re not a redhead.”

“Then we have just over three hours to come up with a way to get off this train without being spotted. Because I have no doubt Tommasino or his men will be waiting for us.”


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia stepped off the bus, onto the warm pavement, and glanced around. It was early morning, but Como was bustling with activity. People, mostly tourists from the look of it, were milling about, some sitting in sidewalk cafes enjoying a morning coffee.

“Rowena.”

Olivia turned at the call of her cover name, and smiled at one of the women from Six whom Tanner had tapped to be part of her travel group, part of her cover.

“Yes, Lydia?”

Lydia, a dark haired woman about ten years younger than Olivia, and a foot taller, held up a canvas bag. “You left your bag on the bus.”

Olivia took it. “Thank you.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Olivia frowned. “Lydia,” she said, quietly but sternly.

The other woman’s eyes grew wide, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered through her fingers.

“It’s all right,” Olivia told her, glancing around. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Now let’s go get the rest of our bags.”

The two walked along the side of the bus to where the driver, along with a handler, were removing the luggage from the hold, and joined the other five women from Six.

They were a varied bunch, Olivia thought, silently praising Tanner for his choices, as four of the six were former Double-0s like herself, the other two regular agents. If push came to shove, they would all be able to handle themselves no matter the situation.

“Ladies,” she said to them, once they all had their suitcases, and moved away from the bus. She glanced around, then focused her attention on the small group again. “You’ve all been briefed, and you know what to do. I know it’s been some time since any of us have been in the field, but you never really forget the things we know.” She paused as the ladies murmured their agreement. “I trust all of you to do what’s expected, and if all goes to plan, you won’t be here long.”

“We won’t let you down.”

“Thank you, Beatrix,” Olivia replied. “Well, let’s head for our hotel, then.”

All the ladies nodded, and with lots of chatter, befitting a group of ladies on vacation together, they made their way down the street, pulling their luggage behind them. As they looked around, enjoying the sights, Olivia was aware they were being followed.

“Good morning, ladies.”

The group stopped, and turned to see a handsome Italian man about Bond’s age approaching them.

“Beautiful morning, no?” he said in Italian.

“Yes it is,” Imogen, a tall, willowy blonde in her late sixties answered. “Although I hear there is a chance of rain.”

“The weatherman cannot always predict the weather.”

“No, but the least he could do is supply the umbrellas.”

The proper exchange made, he smiled, then lifted the brim of his cap in salute. “Gianni Cazale at your service, ladies,” he said, in English. “Which one of you is Signora Hughes?”

Olivia stepped forward. “I am.”

She had known who he was from the moment she’d spotted him following her, having recognized him from his profile.

“Per Mr. Tanner’s instructions, I am to give you whatever help you require.”

“Good. Thank you. The first thing I want to know is, do you know if Bond is still alive?”

“To my knowledge, yes. He is.”

Olivia felt a wave of relief wash over her.

“But I don’t know for how much longer. The Don is not known for his patience in that area.”

“Then we’ll need to get started.”

“What can I do to help?”

“I need for you to arrange a meeting with Don Tommasino. But it must be made to look like a chance meeting,” Olivia told him.

Gianni’s eyebrows rose slightly.

Before she had left England, after discussing the matter with Mallory and Tanner, Olivia had decided that Gianni should not be privy to all the details of the recovery mission. Since they were uncertain how Bond’s cover had been blown, Olivia had chosen to play her cards close to the vest.

“Any suggestions, Mr. Cazale?” she asked him.

“Gianni, please,” he told her.

“Gianni.” Olivia smiled.

A thoughtful expression crossed his face, then he nodded. “Yes. The Don likes to dine at the Osteria Del Gallo on Wednesdays,” he told them. “There is live music, and he likes to watch the women dance as he eats his dinner.”

Of course he does, Olivia thought to herself. “Wednesday. Good, good,” she said. “That’s gives us a day to familiarize ourselves with the area. Where is the Don’s estate?”

“It’s in the old part of Como,” Gianni answered, and waved his hand in a westerly direction.

“Thank you,” she said. “We’ll check it out after we’ve checked in to the hotel.”

Gianni pulled his cap off his head, and rolled it in his hands. “Forgive me, Signora, but it sounds like you’re planning to try and rescue Bond yourselves.”

“It does sound that way, doesn’t it?”

Cazale shook his head. “Mr. Tanner did not tell me much, only that the group of you would be coming here, and that I was to assist you in whatever way I can,” he said, repeating his earlier remarks. “I had not realized you all would be so - ”

“Old?” Beatrix finished for him.

An embarrassed flush darkened his tanned features. “Mature,” he offered. “Tanner mentioned you would be older, but I did not realize you would be…”

“Mature,” one of the other ladies said, and the rest of them chuckled as he flushed again, and nodded.

“I was under the impression MI6 was sending a team of agents to rescue your Mr. Bond.”

“And so they have,” Olivia told him.

“Surely you’re not serious, Signora Hughes. The Don is a dangerous man. Just because you are a woman, does not mean he won’t kill you if you cross him.”

“We’re aware of the Don’s reputation, Gianni.”

“And still your M sends a bunch of old women? That’s crazy.”

“Perhaps,” Olivia responded.

“She’s going to get the lot of you killed. Please. Please, Signora.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Signoras. Take my advice; return to England. Your Mr. Bond is as good as dead anyway. You have no chance of saving him; there is no reason for you to die as well.”

“Be that as it may, we have our orders,” Beatrix spoke up.

“Exactly.” Olivia nodded, then glanced around at the others. “I think it’s time we check in.” She turned back to Gianni. “Thank you. We’ll be in contact when we need something.”

Gianni sighed. “Signora, please reconsider.”

Olivia shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s too late. If you find out anything about Bond, please let us know.”

“Of course,” Cazale replied in a low, dissatisfied voice, and placed his cap back on his head, then walked away.

“Ladies,” Olivia gestured to the front door of the hotel. “Shall we?”

Twenty minutes later, having sorted out who was staying where, Olivia entered her room, with Beatrix right behind her.

“Ma’am,” Beatrix said, once she’d closed the door behind her. “If you would prefer to have the room to yourself, I can bunk in one of the other rooms.”

“Nonsense, Beatrix. This is fine,” Olivia told her, as she lifted her suitcase onto the end of the bed nearest the bathroom. “And it better promotes our cover.”

“That’s true,” Beatrix responded, then grinned. “Even though we’ve not really done anything yet, I have to admit, it feels good to be in the field again, and not chained to a desk.”

Olivia smiled, and chuckled as she nodded her agreement. “I know what you mean. You think you’ve made peace with giving it up, telling yourself that you don’t miss the intrigue and adventure, but you never really get over it.”

“No you don’t. At least, being in charge, you’re not completely out of it,” Beatrix pointed out. “But the flip side of it is that you have to deal with the PM and the Old Boys’ Network, and I’m certain that’s no bed of roses.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Better you than me,” Beatrix quipped.

Unable to help herself, Olivia laughed. She had always liked Beatrix; they had been Double-0s at the same time, and had worked together several times on various missions. When they’d reached the mandatory retirement age for Double-0s, Olivia had gone on to become Station Head of Hong Kong, and Beatrix had opted to take a desk job, and concentrate on having a family.

“Seriously though, I always knew you’d make it, and had hoped the powers that be would be smart enough to promote you accordingly,” Beatrix said in a quiet voice. “I think you should know how much we all, especially the former agents who are still working within the SIS, appreciate everything you’ve done, and everything you do for us. And we all think you’ve done a damn good job.”

“Thank you,” Olivia replied softly, sincerely touched by Beatrix’s words. “It’s good to know.”

The blonde smiled at her, then began unpacking her suitcase. “We were very surprised when the Chief of Staff asked us if we were interested in going on an assignment at our age. But then he explained about James, and we couldn’t refuse.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t know, do you?”

Olivia sat on the edge of her bed. “Know what?”

“That 007 frequently comes down to our floor to talk,” Beatrix told her.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yes, he visits whenever he’s not on assignment, and often has lunch with us. He’s a delightful young man, flirting with us old girls the way he does.” She smiled. “And I don’t care what his reputation is, he has never treated us with anything but respect.”

Olivia nodded. “Of that I have no doubt. His reputation serves him well in the field, but it does him a disservice when he’s home.”

“Yes, it does. He’s a good man.”

“He is,” Olivia said softly, with a gentle nod. “That’s because you see James, not simply 007.”

“Yes. That’s it exactly.”

Olivia smiled. “I am not surprised to hear that he visits with you. James has always had high regard for those who have served before him, especially the Double-0s.”

“That’s why we couldn’t say no when young Tanner asked us for our help. Even if we’re only here as window dressing.”

“And I appreciate all of you doing so.”

Beatrix paused as she lifted a blouse from her suitcase, and held it against her chest as she regarded Olivia. “Do you really think you can get James out?”

Olivia slowly got to her feet, and looked steadily into the former agent’s eyes.

“Yes.”

**~*007*~**

“Nice place,” Maisie, the second youngest member of the group, muttered as they slowly walked along the stone path.

After unpacking, the group of ladies had left the hotel in order to do a little recon.

Wandering around Como, cameras and mobiles in hand, they snapped pictures here and there, all the while slowly heading in the direction of Tommasino’s villa. They were loud, giggling and chattering like the carefree girlfriends on a vacation they were meant to be, but each of them were carefully observing their surroundings, taking everything in.

Their phones and cameras were Q-branch specials - designed for thermal imaging, and enhanced video taking.

Olivia stopped in front of the villa, and motioned the ladies to stand together in front of it. She snapped a picture. “Now, I want one of this beautiful house,” she told them, her voice loud enough to carry. 

The women quickly moved out of the way, and Olivia took several shots, from various angles, before an older man stepped out onto the veranda.

Don Vita Tommasino.

Just under six foot tall, the Don was in his mid to late sixties, with dark grey hair, which he kept slicked back. He had thick, dark eyebrows, which were in stark contrast to the pencil thin moustache on his upper lip. He was a large man – not fat, but neither was he thin; sporting a very noticeable stomach.

Perfect, Olivia thought.

“Here! What are you doing?” he called out in English.

Olivia lowered the camera, and smiled up at him. “My apologies,” she called back. “You have a such a beautiful home, I could not resist taking a couple of photos. I’m sorry.”

She was not surprised to see his eyes travel over her, and was glad she had chosen to change into the sundress, as it revealed a generous amount of her cleavage, especially when his gaze settled on her chest.

“All right, but no more,” Tommasino told her.

Olivia nodded, and placed her camera in her bag. “Thank you,” she said, then turned, and joined the ladies where they were standing off to the side of the road.

They began walking back toward the city.

“He’s watching,” Gwendolyn told her.

Olivia smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

“Anything?”

“No.”

“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

“Me either.”

James turned away from the window as the train eased into the Lucerne railway station, and met Olivia’s eyes.

“I think it will work,” she told him.

“It’s certainly worth a shot,” he replied. “It will be a little tricky, as it’s quite a large station.”

“I know.” She nodded. “But we really don’t have much choice. Unless you can think of an alternative.”

“Shoot them.”

“007.” Olivia shook her head.

“Sorry.” He sighed, as the train finally came to a stop.

Around them, many of the other passengers were already on their feet. Some were collecting their bags from the overhead compartments, while others were already making their way to the exits.

“Well, this is it.” She stood.

“Yeah.”

“It will be all right, James,” Olivia said, and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gave his shoulder a brief squeeze, then slipped into the next wave of passengers heading for the exit. Reaching the door, she resisted the urge to look back at him, knowing it would be too risky, then stepped off the train once she was able; trusting James to follow their plan.

**~*007*~**

James adjusted the pilfered hat on his head as he strolled along the concourse, his senses on high alert. He hadn’t seen any sign of Tommasino’s henchmen yet, but he had little doubt they were about. He glanced around the station, then returned his attention to the woman walking several metres in front of him.

They had decided to leave the train separately, knowing the Don’s men were looking for him and an older woman. James had insisted they stay within sight of each other, however, for safety’s sake. He was injured – though that had never really stopped him before – and it had been a number of years since she’d been in the field.

Anything could happen.

He had no doubt she could handle herself, which she had already proved by rescuing his sorry arse from Tommasino, however he still could not help worrying, and feeling protective of her.

She was far too important to him.

As he followed her, he wondered where she was headed, as they only had an hour before it was time to board the sleeper train. A smile came to his face when she paused in front of a clothing store, then glanced back over her shoulder at him.

He nodded, and watched as she went inside, then joined her a few minutes later.

“Any sign?” she asked him, when he sidled up to her at one of the clothing racks where she was rifling through some blouses.

“No. But we shouldn’t let our guard down.”

“I agree,” Olivia replied. “We’ve got a little less than an hour before we can board our train, so find yourself a change of clothes, and something to sleep in.”

“Well I prefer to sleep in the nude.”

“Of course you do.”

“You could always do the same, M.” He smirked at her, and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

She shook her head. “In your dreams, 007. Now, stop arsing around, and go find some clothes. We’re on a schedule.”

“Yes, ma’am,” James said, then headed for the men’s section. As he looked through the selection of shirts and trousers, he glanced across the store at her.

In his dreams was right. He had dreamt about it; about M naked in his arms.

James closed his eyes.

But it was just a dream.

He knew M did not see him that way. He was simply her agent, and nothing more. And yet, James thought, M had come herself to rescue him.

She hadn’t sent another agent. She hadn’t sent in a recovery team, and she hadn’t simply written him off as collateral damage.

No. M, herself, had gone undercover, infiltrated Tommasini’s organization, and had got, not only him, but herself out as well; along with the stolen defense program _he_ had been sent to recover.

So, maybe… just maybe there was something there.

She had kissed him back the other night in his cell. Yes, he’d been drugged, and sleep deprived, and had thought she was a hallucination, but he clearly remembered her responding to his kiss when he’d grabbed her and kissed her.

His eyes opened, and he focused on her again. Could M really have feelings for him, too, he wondered. He shook his head, reminding himself that now was not the time to get lost in such thoughts. They were still in danger; Tommasino still on their trail.

No, he would wait until they made it back to London. And then, James decided, he and M would have a serious talk.

With that thought in mind, he returned his attention to the task at hand: finding a change of clothes, and something to sleep in. Normally quite choosy about his clothing, but knowing time was of the essence, he picked out a simple pair of black trousers, a blue shirt. He was just about to grab a pair of track pants when he felt like he was being watched.

Raising his head, he glanced around, then swore to himself when he saw two of Tommasino’s men – Carmine and Fredo - standing in front of the store. Both were staring at him with dark expressions on their faces, and he hoped this meant they hadn’t spotted M yet. Most likely they’d been told that she wasn’t a redhead, but not knowing her natural hair colour would give her a slight advantage, unless they were close to her. At that point, her features would be recognizable, and her voice would be a dead giveaway.

It was also helpful, James thought, that there were a couple other older women in the shop, browsing through the clothes, their husbands most likely sitting elsewhere, bored, and grateful to not have to be clothes shopping with their wives.

He watched them look around the store, trying to determine which of the older women was M. James sighed. He knew Tommasino’s men would not enter the store right away, and would simply wait for him to leave, so as to not make a scene, which would bring station security down on them.

He needed a plan.

Turning away from the window, he spotted M weaving her way through the clothing racks toward him, and gave a gentle, barely discernable shake of his head. An imperceptible nod was his answer, and once she was out from between the various racks of clothes, she made her way to the cash register.

Clothes in hand, James strode over to the checkout as well, and stood behind her, looking as if he were simply waiting his turn.

“I don’t think they’ve spotted you yet,” he told her softly. “I’ll distract them. Once you pay for all this, get to the train. Boarding will be starting shortly. I’ll meet you there.”

“James…”

“M, please. I’ll be okay. Just get to the train. I’ll take care of them.”

“All right. But be careful,” she told him.

“I will,” he replied, then turned to the cashier, and tossed the shirt and trousers on the counter. “I don’t think I want these any longer,” he said in a loud voice, then turned and walked away.

Stepping out of the store, James smiled and waved at Carmine and Fredo, before he took off down the concourse, walking as quickly as his sore ribs would allow him. He chanced a glance back over his shoulder, and was gratified to see both men following him. So long as it was only these two, then M had a chance to get to the train.

Spotting a sign for the toilets, James made a beeline for the gents. He hurried inside, grateful to find the lavatory empty – no civilians to worry about – and parked himself against the wall next to the door, situated so the opening door would obscure him for a second or two. He hoped this would give him a slight advantage, as with his hurt ribs, he knew he couldn’t take both on at once.

He wished he had a weapon of some kind – a gun, a knife, even a stick - anything other than his bare hands, but he had left the gun with M, wanting her to have something to defend herself with, other than her knock-out ring.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fought with no weapons, and with physical injuries, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, he told himself as he squared his shoulders, and readied himself for Tommasino’s goons.

Any second now.

The door swung open, and Fredo, the smallest of the two men, entered the restroom first.

James shoved hard at the door, hitting Carmine with it, and knocking him back into the hallway and onto the floor, then lunged for Fredo before he could turn around. He wrapped his arms around his neck, and began to choke him. Fredo struggled, clawing at Bond’s arm, as they stumbled backwards, and fell against the door. James grunted as pain shot through his ribs, but he held on tight.

He could hear Carmine scrambling to his feet just outside the door, and put more pressure on Fredo’s neck. He felt the door bump his back as Carmine pushed against it, and Bond leaned back, ignoring the pain shooting through his body as his ribs were jarred again.

He growled, then finally reached around to grab the side of Fredo’s face, and snapped his neck, killing him instantly.

He let go of the body, then bent to grab Fredo’s gun when Carmine shoved against the door again, knocking James off his feet.

He fell forward, sprawling onto the hard floor with an agonized groan, as intense pain lanced through his torso. 

“Get up!” Carmine growled in Italian.

James slowly got to his feet, then turned to see Carmine pointing his gun at him, while he nudged Fredo with his foot. When he looked at Bond, there was anger and hatred in his dark eyes.

“Where is she?” Carmine asked.

“Where is who?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Bond! I’m not in the mood to play.”

“Oh, but it’s so much fun,” James replied, then threw himself at the other man.

He managed to knock Carmine’s gun out of his hand, which clattered to the floor under the sinks, as they tripped over Fredo’s body, and staggered back against the wall. They traded several punches, James making sure to protect his ribs, knowing they would not be able to handle too many blows.

James tripped over the body on the floor when Carmine landed a solid punch on his chin, and he landed in an ungainly heap, his breath leaving him in a rush as it was knocked from his lungs.

He saw Carmine bend down, and reach inside Fredo’s jacket for his gun. James scrambled across the floor, grabbed Carmine’s gun from where it lay beneath the sinks, then flipped around to shoot Carmine.

He watched the gangster’s eyes grow wide in disbelief as a red stain blossomed across his chest, before he fell back against the wall, then slid down onto the floor.

James got to his feet, and hearing a loud crunch, he looked down to see what remained of the mobile phone. He frowned; he hadn’t felt it fall out of his pocket. He shook his head, then glanced at the gun in his hand, grateful Carmine had had sense to put the silencer on. As he did so, he caught sight of his watch, and swore loudly.

He had fifteen minutes to make it across the station to catch his train.

Tossing the gun on top of Carmine’s dead form, he left the men’s room, locking the door behind him. He broke off the door handle for good measure, then hurried away.

**~*007*~**

“Christ, 007, where the hell are you?” Olivia muttered angrily, glancing at her watch as she paced back and forth within the confines of the small cabin.

She knew why Bond had done it; Tommasino’s men hadn’t recognized her, so he had used himself as bait to lure them away.

His plan had worked.

Both men had followed him, and she’d been able to make it to the train without any trouble. She’d waited patiently, but anxiously on the platform for him to catch up with her, carefully watching everyone around her on the off chance any one of them were also working for the Don.

She hadn’t spotted anyone, and no one had seemed to recognize her either, and she’d breathed a small sigh of relief when the conductor had called for boarding to begin.

That relief had lasted only until she’d reached the private cabin she and Bond had booked, and he still hadn’t shown up.

Olivia was worried. Extremely worried.

Bond was badly injured, his ribs having already taken a severe beating at the hands of Tommasino’s men, and was in no shape to take on those two thugs, at least not in any sort of physical fight. If Bond had taken the gun, she wouldn’t be quite so worried, but he had left it in the bag, and she knew why he had.

The train suddenly lurched.

Olivia swore loudly as the train then began to move, rolling out of the station.

“Dammit, Bond!”

There was a soft knock on the cabin door, followed by a muffled, “M…”

Angry at him for causing her to worry, for risking his life yet again, she yanked open the door. “What the hell too… oh shit, James!” She gasped at the sight.

His face was bruised and bloody. His right eye swollen almost to the point of closing, his bottom lip was split and bleeding, and there were several cuts and scratches on his cheeks and forehead.

“Sorry, I took so long,” he muttered, giving her a crooked smile.

“Oh, James.” She shook her head in exasperation, then reached out to grab him when he began to sway.

He slumped forward into her arms, his head falling onto her shoulder.

“Come on, James.” She placed her hands on his hips, too afraid to wrap her arms around him, instinct telling her that he’d hurt his ribs further. “Let’s get you inside,” she told him, and took a step back. “James, you need to help me.”

He groaned, and raised his head.

The pain in his eyes tore at her heart, and her earlier anger evaporated.

She lifted a hand to gently cradle the side of his face. “Come on, James,” she urged him softly.

He nodded, and with her help, shuffled into the cabin, then sank down onto the seat with another low, pained groan.

Satisfied he wasn’t going to topple over, Olivia closed the cabin door, then moved into the small lavatory. She grabbed the wash cloth off the shelf, turned on the tap, wetted it, then returned to sit beside him, her body angled toward him.

“This is going to sting a little,” she told him, then began to gently dab the cut on his right cheek, cleaning away the blood.

He hissed, wincing in pain.

“Sorry,” she whispered, then asked, “Did you - ”

“I took care of them,” he cut her off, flinching when she began wipe the cuts on his left cheek. 

“Well done, 007.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied, then said in an apologetic tone, “I’m afraid the phone got damaged in the scuffle.”

“Doesn’t matter. It was just a burner phone. You made it out, that’s what matters,” she told him, as she lowered the cloth to his lip, and wiped the blood from his chin, then very carefully, with light pats, cleaned the split in his lip. When she was done, she placed the dirty cloth on the seat behind her, then looked at him.

“I wish we had a first aid kit so that I could bandage those cuts,” she said. “How’s your eye?”

“Sore. If we can get some ice, it will help with the swelling.”

Olivia nodded. “Let’s get your shirt off. I want to check your ribs.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, and with her help, removed his shirt.

Olivia pulled in a shaky breath, and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Oh god, James…”

His chest and his sides were covered in large bruises; dark, angry red and purple splotches that were the result of the violence inflicted on him at the hands of Tommasino’s men; made worse by his most recent fight.

She reached out to lay her hand on his side, then stopped just before she made contact, her hand hovering over him; afraid physical contact would simply add to his pain.

“It looks worse than it feels,” James told her.

“I highly doubt that,” she replied. “Any further damage? The truth.”

He sighed, and shook his head. “I don’t think any are broken, but a few are definitely cracked now.”

“Once we’re further out of Lucerne, I will see if I can get some ice, it will help with the pain and swelling,” Olivia said. “As well as some painkillers.”

“Over the counter stuff won’t really help me much, I’ve built up too strong a resistance to it,” he remarked.

“True,” she murmured, her eyes still on the spectacular bruising. Unable to resist not touching him any longer, hoping to offer some form of comfort, she gently laid her hand on his side.

“Why did you come, M?” he asked in a low voice.

Olivia immediately pulled her hand away, but he grabbed hold of her wrist, and held it firmly. 

“M?”

She had hoped he wouldn’t ask her this.

Olivia lifted her gaze to his. “Knowing you worked for British Intelligence, a team or other agents trying to break you out is exactly what Tommasino would have expected. This was the only way to get you out.”

“But why you specifically? Six has certain procedures when it comes to extracting exposed agents. Sending in the head of MI6 is not one of them.”

“There wasn’t enough time to bring another agent up to speed in order to get you out in a timely fashion. It is also well know that Tommasino has a type. I fit the bill.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“What other reason could there be?”

His eyes bore into hers, and she startled slightly when she felt his fingers cup her chin; her eyes grew wide when he slowly leaned toward her, while simultaneously urging her closer.

“This,” James whispered, and brushed his lips against hers.

Olivia willed herself not to respond, but the look in his eyes was too compelling, as was the gentleness of his kiss combined with her own desire for him. The hand not being held by his went to his shoulder, as she parted her lips under the subtle pressure of his tongue.

Soft moans sounded between them.

Tasting blood, Olivia eased out of the kiss, and the two stared at each other, panting softly. She lifted her hand from his shoulder to cup his jaw, swiping the blood from his chin where his lip had begun to bleed again.

“M…?”

“Yes,” she replied, answering everything with that one huskily uttered word.

Bond grinned, and pulled her back to him, and caught her mouth again, this time in a much more passionate kiss. When he leaned more fully into her, trying to ease her onto her back, Olivia broke off the kiss, and placed her hand firmly on his chest.

“James…” She shook her head.

He sighed, but nodded.

“When you’ve healed, and we’ve had a chance to talk about this - ”

A knock on the cabin door startled them both.

Olivia stood, and moved to the door. “Yes?”

“Conductor, Signora. Tickets, please.”

Olivia opened the door slowly, and once she was satisfied the man in the corridor was who he said he was, she opened it completely, then pulled the tickets out from her pocket.

The conductor glanced inside as he took the tickets, and frowned at the sight of Bond on the seat. “Is he all right?”

“Yes. Water-skiing accident.”

“Ouch.” The conductor ripped off his portion of the tickets, then returned them to her. “Hope he feels better,” he said, then continued on down the hall.

Olivia shut, and locked the door, then turned to find James asleep in his seat. His head had fallen to his chest, and he was breathing deeply.

She licked her lips.

Perhaps he did feel more.


	6. Chapter 6

“Oh, this looks delightful.”

Olivia nodded her agreement with Beatrix’s exclamation as the six ladies approached the Osteria Del Gallo.

It was a quaint little restaurant. White-bricked, with two large windows, and a big green door which was wide open, from which lively music streamed out onto the pebbled street.

Olivia could see why Tommasino favoured this particular restaurant. It was close enough to the more touristy areas of Como to keep it busy, but not too close as to be overcrowded.

“Are you ready?”

Olivia turned to Beatrix, and nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

The two shared a smile, then with a nod to the other ladies, they entered the restaurant.

Olivia’s smile broadened as she looked around. The inside of Osteria Del Gallo was even more quaint than the outside.

Wooden tables and chairs lined the walls, covered with green and white checkered tablecloths, drippy candles in fat-bottomed wine bottles sat on the tables, the flames flickering in the breeze that wafted through the open door. One wall, far in the back, was lined with shelves, each one filled with bottles of various wines, while dozens of framed pictures of various sizes and subjects hung in an organized mess on the rest of the walls.

A part of her wished her reason for being here was for pleasure, not because she was on an assignment, and for one brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine that she was there for a romantic dinner with James.

“Good evening, ladies!”

The cheerful exclamation called out in English brought Olivia out of her thoughts to see a large, balding man wearing a dark suit, hurrying over to them with a large smile. 

“Good evening,” Beatrix replied.

“I am Castellano, the maitre d’,” he told them, bowing slightly. “Table for six?”

“Please.” Beatrix smiled at him, and nodded.

Castellano’s smile grew. “Follow me,” he said, then turned on his heel, and guided them through the restaurant, into another room.

“Far corner,” Beatrix murmured under her breath to Olivia as they skirted around the small dance floor.

“I see him,” Olivia replied.

“Here you are, ladies.” Castellano gestured with a flourish to a table in the corner next to one of the large windows.

It was, Olivia realized, directly across from Tommasino’s table.

She smiled at the maitre d’. “It’s perfect. Thank you,” she told him in Italian, and chuckled when she saw the surprise blossom on his face.

“You speak Italian?” he asked in his native tongue.

“I do, yes. A couple of the other ladies do as well.”

“Ah, bene! E ‘meraviglioso!” Castellano clapped his hands with delight, then continued in English, “Please sit. I shall bring you some wine to start, yes?”

“Yes, please.” Beatrix answered, while the others nodded their agreement as they took their seats.

Castellano’s smile grew, then with a quick nod, he turned and hurried away.

Olivia sat with her back to the window, giving her a clear view of the Don, while Beatrix sat to her right.

“This should work out well,” Beatrix remarked. “He’s got a direct line to you.”

“I know.” Olivia glanced at her and smiled.

Before she could say anything else, Castellano and a waitress approached the table; Castellano carrying two bottles of wine, the young woman a tray with six glasses, and two baskets filled with bread.

“Ladies, this is Sophia, my daughter.” Castellano introduced her to them. “She will be your waitress. And this…” He held one of the bottles out to Olivia so she could read the label, as Sophia placed the glasses on the table, followed by the baskets of bread. “This is your wine. I thought it best to start you off with the Franciacorta. A light-hearted wine; the perfect complement to any meal you choose, unless you would prefer a different wine.”

Olivia read the label over, then smiled up at him. “No, this will be fine, thank you.”

He beamed, then set the bottle on the table, and held his hand out to his daughter, who placed a corkscrew bottle opener into his palm. He immediately went to work on uncorking the bottle as Olivia watched.

“Ooh, fresh bread,” Maisie remarked, lifting a thick piece from the basket. “And it’s warm.” She took a large bite, and moaned her delight as she chewed, swallowed, then took another bite.

Lydia poured some olive oil, from the decanter on the table, onto the small plate Sophia had given her, then reached for a slice of the bread. She tore off a bite, dipped it in the oil, then popped it into her mouth. “Mmm…” she murmured around the bread, “this is good.”

“My grandmother’s recipe,” Sophia told them, smiling with pride, as she then handed each lady a menu. “I will be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

“Thank you,” Imogen replied with a smile, as she too, reached for a hunk of the bread.

At that same moment, there was a loud pop as Castellano uncorked the wine. He reached for Olivia’s glass, and poured a small amount of the sparkling white into it, then handed it to her. “Signora…”

Olivia took the glass, brought it to her lips, and took a sip. She held the cool liquid in her mouth for a moment, allowing the flavour to linger on her tongue before swallowing. She smiled up at the older Italian gentleman. “It’s very good.”

“Bene!” he exclaimed, and topped up her glass, then moved around the table to fill the other glasses.

As he did that, Olivia took another sip of the wine, then put her glass down, and reached for a piece of bread. Ripping off a chunk, she dipped it into the oil Beatrix had poured on the small plate between them, then placed it into her mouth.

It **was** good bread, Olivia thought, agreeing with Lydia’s earlier sentiment, as she chewed, then swallowed.

As she reached for her wine glass, she felt it.

Tommasino’s eyes.

She took a long, deep drink of the wine, tilting her head back to expose the line of her throat. She lowered her head, then eased the glass from her mouth, placing it on the table as the cool liquid slid down her throat, then in a very deliberate fashion, Olivia licked her lips.

“Enjoy the wine, ladies,” Castellano told them, once he had filled each lady’s glass. “Sophia will be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

“Thank you, Signor Castellano,” Beatrix replied. Once he was gone, she turned to Olivia. “You know he’s watching you, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

**~*007*~**

Olivia listened as Sophia repeated their order back to them.

“That’s it,” Arabella told her.

Sophia smiled. “Very good. Would you like some more bread?”

“Yes, please!” Maisie answered with an enthusiastic nod.

“I’ll bring some right away,” Sophia told her, then walked away.

“He keeps staring at you,” Beatrix told Olivia.

“I know.”

“Have you made eye contact yet?”

“A brief glance, yes,” Olivia replied.

Just before Sophia had returned to take their order, Olivia had looked up and over at Tommasino, and found him smiling at her. She’d smiled back, then had returned her attention to her menu.

“That’s a start,” Beatrix remarked.

“Mmhmm, but we need to move it along. Bond’s life depends on it.”

Just then, the music changed tempo, became more upbeat once again.

“And I know the perfect way.” Olivia smiled, as she slid her chair back, then stood, and stepped around the table so that her back was to Tommasino. She began to sway to the music, as she leaned on the table. “He likes to watch the women dance,” she said quietly to Beatrix, then addressed the others, “At least three of you need to join me on the dance floor.”

She straightened up, then began to dance backwards slowly, and gestured to the ladies. “Come on, girls, let’s dance,” she called to them in a sing-song voice.

Beatrix and Maisie got to their feet, and stepped around the table, then at Maisie’s urging, Arabella stood as well, and joined them.

Olivia smiled, then turned and sashayed her way to the dance floor as they followed her, and moments later, all four were dancing happily; laughing and carrying on like old friends. She could feel Tommasino’s eyes on her, and made sure to keep her back to him as much as possible, wanting him to focus on the sway of her hips.

The song ended a few minutes later, changing to a slower melody once again, and they stopped dancing. They looked at each other, bright smiles on their flushed faces, then Arabella and Maisie turned, and made their way back to the table.

Olivia looked at Beatrix, and shrugged. “Well, that was short-lived,” she said with a wry smile.

Beatrix laughed, then hooked her arm through Olivia’s. “Let’s go have some more wine.”

“Sounds good to me,” Olivia replied, as they walked arm in arm off the dance floor.

“Did your photos turn out?”

Olivia stopped, and turned to find Tommasino looking up at her. “My photos?”

“Of my villa,” he told her.

“Your vil… oh yes!” Olivia allowed a broad smile to fill her face. “Yes, they did. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, Signora,” he replied, then slowly got to his feet, and stepped around the table to stand before her. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Vito Tommasino.”

“Nice to meet you, Signor Tommasino,” Olivia said, then held her hand out to him. “Rowena Hughes.”

“A pleasure,” Vito said, as he took her hand, and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. “Perhaps after your meal, you will share a dance with me, yes?”

Olivia nodded. “That would be lovely.”

Tommasino kissed her knuckles again, then released her hand, then turned to Beatrix. “Forgive my lapse in manners.” He held his hand out to her. “Vito Tommasino.”

“Beatrix Aiken,” she replied, placing her hand in his, smiling when he brought her hand to his mouth, and brushed a kiss to her knuckles as well.

“I shall let you ladies rejoin your friends,” Tommasino told them, then stepped aside. He looked at Olivia. “Don’t forget our dance, Signora.”

“I won’t,” Olivia said, and then she and Beatrix returned to their table.

“Well, that could not have gone better if we’d planned it,” Beatrix remarked with a smirk.

Olivia laughed.

**~*007*~**

“Well?”

Olivia rolled onto her side, and looked at Beatrix lying in the opposite bed with a curious look on her face. “Don Vito Tommasino has offered to be our tour guide tomorrow.”

“Has he now?”

“Yes, he has. Rather gallant of him, don’t you think?”

Beatrix smiled. “You haven’t lost your touch.”

“It certainly appears that way.”

“Were you worried?”

“I don’t mind admitting that I was a little, yes. It’s been a while.”

“But as you pointed out, there are some skills you never lose.”

Olivia nodded.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get into the villa before the end of the week?” Beatrix asked.

Olivia held her eyes, then replied in a low voice, “I do hope so.”

**~*007*~**

“Stay.”

Olivia turned to regard the man sitting beside her on the park bench just outside a lakeside café.

It had been three days since the ‘accidental’ meeting with Tommasino at the restaurant, and Olivia had spent most of them in the company of the Don. He’d played tour guide, as he’d promised to do, and had shown them all around Como.

He’d been quite the charmer, and Olivia knew, had the circumstances been different, had she met him not knowing who and what he was, she might very well have fallen for him.

But she did know who he was, and what he was.

He was the head of a crime family, and he had taken her best agent prisoner.

Falling for him was not an option.

However, she was good at her job. Very good. She knew that Tommasino considered himself to be quite the ladies’ man, and while he believed he’d been wooing and seducing her, she had been the one seducing him.

It had only taken two days for Tommasino to make his first move on her.

“Stay,” he said again.

“I would love to, Vito, but…”

“No buts!” Tommasino grasped her hand, and raised it to his mouth. “You have enjoyed my company these last three days, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have. Very much.”

“Then why see it end?” He kissed her knuckles. “We have grown so close, or have you already forgotten last night?”

She smiled, allowing a soft blush to colour her cheeks, then responded in a soft voice, “No, I’ve not forgotten last night.”

Tommasino had escorted them to a local nightclub, where after much drinking and dancing, he had danced her into a secluded corner, and he’d kissed her. And when he’d accompanied her back to the hotel, he had taken her into his arms in the backseat of his limo for a long, heated exchange.

“For a moment there, I thought I’d lost my touch,” Vito quipped with a smile, and kissed her fingers.

Olivia licked her lips. “Mmm… no you most certainly have not.”

“Then stay, Rowena, please.”

“This is so unexpected, Vito. Meeting you this way.”

“It was obviously fated,” he said, and she chuckled. “Stay just a few days more. There’s a festival this weekend, I would very much like to have you attend with me.”

“But what of my friends? We’ve been planning this trip for the last two years,” she told him, looking across the road to where the others were talking with some of the locals in the café. 

“They can stay as well, or you can catch up with them after. What is your next destination when you leave here?”

“Rome.”

“Ah, bene! Rome is only an hour away by plane,” Vito said. “I will fly you there on my personal jet. The other ladies, too, if they wish to stay.”

Olivia sighed, but smiled at the same time. “You’re not making this easy, Vito.”

“Good.” He grinned. “That is the idea.”

She laughed.

Letting go of her hand, Vito reached up to cup her cheek, and leaned close. He kissed her. “Rowena…”

“I would love to stay, Vito. Honestly I would, but my room at the hotel is only booked until tomorrow.”

“You can stay at the villa.”

Olivia shook her head. “I - ”

“In your own room. As I promised you last night, I will not pressure you for more until you are ready.” He kissed her again, softly. “Stay, please.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay. But only until the festival, then I must rejoin my friends for the rest of our trip.”

Vito nodded. “Unless I can convince you to stay longer.”

Olivia laughed.

**~*007*~**

“I know this was the plan, but are you certain about this?” Beatrix asked her, and the others - Imogen, Maisie, Gwendolyn, Arabella, and Lydia - all nodded, looking at her with anxious eyes.

They were at the bus stop, preparing to board the bus that would take them to Orio al Seiro, where they would fly to Rome, then on home to London.

“Yes.” Olivia glanced back over her shoulder to where Vito was waiting, leaning up against his limousine, then turned back to her fellow agents. “I’m sure. We know exactly which cell 007 is being held in thanks to Q’s ingenious cameras, so if all goes well, in two days, he and I will be on our way to Ambri.”

“I spoke to Gianni,” Beatrix told her. “He will have a car waiting for you in the alley behind the Osteria. The keys will be in the visor, he said.”

“Thank you,” Olivia said.

“All right, ladies, it’s time to go,” the bus conductor called out to them.

The group of six women embraced.

“Be safe, M,” Beatrix whispered in her ear.

“I will,” Olivia whispered back.

“I’ll call Mallory once we land in Rome, and update him.”

“Thank you.”

Olivia stepped away from them, and watched them board the bus, waving to Beatrix when she paused on the step.

“We’ll see you in Rome, honey!” Beatrix called out to her.

“Count on it!” Olivia called back, then made her way across the street to Vito’s side.

He took her hand, and raised it to his lips. “You’ll be back with them in a few days,” he told her. “Unless I can convince you to stay.”

“Vito…” She shook her head.

Tommasino held his hands up in surrender. “All right, but can I at least try to convince you to return to me afterwards?”

Olivia turned to face him, laid her hands on his chest, and rose up on her toes to kiss him. “You can try.”

**~*007*~**

Olivia knelt before the door, carefully and quietly, picking the lock; seconds later, there was a soft click. She stood, turned the handle, opened the door, then entered the cell.

She crept over to the cot in the corner, and crouched down next to it.

“007,” Olivia said in a hushed voice, and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Bond, wake up.”

He stirred, groaning as he opened his eyes. “M…” he slurred, a dopey smile filling his face. “Hi, M…”

“Oh, James.” She shook her head sadly, realizing he’d been drugged.

His face fell, and a look of profound sadness took the place of the smile. “I’m sorry, M… I fucked up,” he muttered.

“It’s all right, 00 - ” 

Before she could finish her sentence, his arm shot up, his hand grasping the back of her neck, and he pulled her down, his mouth catching hers in a hungry, desperate kiss. Her hands found purchase on the mattress on either side of him, and she pushed away from him, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

“007, behave!”

“Sorry… M… let you down… M…” He tried to pull her back to him.

She slapped his face, just hard enough to grab his attention. “Bond, focus!” Once he was looking steadily at her, she continued. “Listen to me very carefully, 007. I’m going to get you out of here, but not until tomorrow night. I know they’re drugging you, but this will help,” she said, and opened the locket she was wearing. She removed a white tablet, and slipped it into his mouth. “Swallow it, Bond. It will help counteract the drugs.”

She watched him carefully, and when she was certain he’d swallowed the pill, she smiled, and patted his shoulder.

“Very good, 007. Now try to remember, I’ll be back tomorrow to get you out,” she told him.

“Yes, M…” he murmured.

He pulled her back to him, and kissed her again.

Unable to help herself, Olivia found herself kissing him back. Only for a moment, she told herself, and just in case things didn’t go as planned.

She pulled away the very next second, then cupped his cheek briefly.

“Tomorrow, James,” she whispered, then stood, and left the cell.

**~*007*~**

“Rowena!”

Olivia jumped at the loud call of her name, and spun around, her hand on her throat.

“Vito! You startled me,” she told him, in a breathless voice, eyes wide; her reaction completely feigned. She’d been expecting him, and had heard his footsteps in the hall.

“What are you doing?” Tommasino asked, as he crossed the villa’s large kitchen to stand beside her. “Where’s Santino?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would warm a glass of milk,” she answered, pointing to the microwave whirring behind her. “And I think Santino’s in the toilet. He did not look well. Perhaps he should see a doctor.”

Santino was the guard the Don had assigned to protect her; at least that’s how Vito had phrased it the day before when they’d arrived at the villa, but she knew Santino, or Sonny he’d told her to call him, was actually there to keep her from wandering into an area of the villa she shouldn’t be.

She had slipped a little something into his coffee earlier. 

Tommasino frowned, then reached out, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “I apologize for startling you, my dear.”

Olivia smiled. “It’s all right. I think it’s just excitement for the festival tomorrow.”

As expected, a large grin spread across Vito’s face. “I am pleased to hear that,” he said, as he slid his hand down her arm to grasp her hand in his. “I hope it will be a good day for us.”

The look in his eyes told her what he was hoping for, and Olivia stepped closer, and laid her other hand on his chest. She smiled up at him, and uttered softly, “So do I.”

Vito slowly lowered his head, and just as his lips met hers, the microwave dinged. “Damn,” he swore.

Olivia chuckled softly, and patted his chest affectionately, then stepped away from him.

“Allow me,” he said.

Olivia nodded, watching as he opened the microwave door, and removed the now warm glass of milk, but instead of handing it to her, he kept hold of it, then offered her his elbow.

“I’ll walk you back to your room.”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they slowly made her way to the guest room in an amicable silence. She opened the door, and entered before him.

Vito crossed the room, and placed the glass on the bedside table, then turned and walked over to her. He drew her into his arms, and before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers, and he was kissing her passionately.

When one of his hands found its way into her robe, and beneath the bodice of her nightgown to cup her breast, Olivia stopped him after allowing him a couple of squeezes, and before he could do more than that. She covered his hand with hers, and shook her head. “Vito…”

“I’m sorry, Rowena.” He panted, then with another squeeze to her breast, he slipped his hand out of her nightclothes, but made no move to release her from his embrace. “You enflame my senses in ways no other woman has in a very long time. Surely you can feel how much I desire you.”

“Yes, I can,” she responded, pitching her voice low, knowing it would sound more husky than usual, and that he would mistake it for arousal. “I want to be with you, too, Vito. It’s just… I’ve not been with anyone since I lost my husband, and I’m a little nervous.”

“I understand, my dear,” Vito said. “And I did promise not to pressure you.”

Olivia nodded. 

He smiled at her. “And I won’t.”

“Thank you, Vito.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” he replied, then kissed her again before he released and stepped away from her. He walked over to the door, and looked back at her. “Sleep well. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

Olivia crossed over to him, and laid her hand on his arm. “Tomorrow, Vito… I’ll try…”

Tommasino nodded. “Good night, Rowena,” he said, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Alone, Olivia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Christ, the man was a lousy kisser, she thought, moving over to sit on the edge of the bed. She reached for the glass of warm milk she really hadn’t wanted, and took a long sip in order to get the taste of the man out of her mouth.

She lowered the glass when she heard voices outside her door. She quietly padded over, and pressed her ear to the door.

Santino had returned; Vito was giving him hell for leaving her alone.

_“She could have wandered down below, and found our guest. Fortunately for you, she only went for some warm milk,”_ Vito growled at him in Italian. _“If you leave her side again, while she is in this house, the punishment will be severe. Understood?”_

_“Sì, Don Vito.”_

Olivia smiled.

**~*007*~**

“Well? Are you glad you stayed?”

Olivia twirled around to smile brightly at Vito, and nodded. “I am. Oh, Vito, that was wonderful.”

“And it only gets better,” he told her. “Wait until this evening.”

It was time, Olivia thought, to put the rest of her plan into action, as they were finally alone; Vito having dismissed his guard, as well as Santino, the moment they’d entered the villa.

Her smile grew as she slowly sauntered toward him.

“Vito,” she said softly, stepping into his personal space, and laid her hands on his chest. “Vito…” She glanced down, then looked up, an almost shy expression on her face, knowing the effect it would have on him. “I did a lot of thinking after you left my room last night, and I was silly to send you away.”

“Are you saying what I think you are, my dear?”

Olivia nodded, and slid her hands up to his shoulders and around his neck, as she rose up on her toes, and kissed him. A hard, hungry kiss that had him clutching her firmly against him. She broke off the kiss, then wiggled out of his arms, and grabbed his hand, smiling at him as she began to lead him out of the living room.

“Now?” Vito asked her, as she led him down the hall toward her room.

“Yes.” She stopped. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Tommasino tugged her back into his arms, then turned, pressing her against the wall with his large body, and kissed her.

“I want to,” he panted against her mouth.

Olivia smiled. “Then let’s - ”

He cut her off with another kiss, then told her, “My room.”

“All right.”

Pushing himself away from her, he grabbed her hand firmly in his, and led her quickly in the opposite direction, toward his bedroom. Once inside, he locked the door, then ushered her over to the bed.

Before she could utter a word, Olivia found herself on the bed, with Vito on top of her. His mouth was on hers, stealing her breath as he plundered her mouth with his tongue, nearly gagging her in his excitement.

She lifted her arms, intending to wrap them around the back of his neck in order to remove the stone from the ring so she could knock him out, as he’d barely touched the last glass of wine at lunch, which she’d managed to drug without him seeing, but Vito’s hands closed around her wrists, and he pinned them to the mattress over her head.

He yanked his mouth from hers, and looked down at her, his face flushed, his brown eyes dark with lust, then ducked his head to kiss her neck, moving lower to lick the tops of her breasts, exposed by the sundress she wore.

Olivia closed her eyes, fighting the urge to knee him in the balls, then simply knock him out with the drug in her ring. No, this needed to be done subtly.

“Vito…” she gasped his name, then moaned, exaggerating the sound. It had the desired effect as the Don began to rut against her. “Vito, darling… I…”

He raised his head, his face more red than before, and his grip on her wrists tightened slightly. “You’re not going to tell me to stop now, are you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “But before we go too much further, I need to ask - ”

“I’m clean,” he interrupted her.

She smiled. “No… I know that. I wanted to ask if you had any lubricant.”

Confusion filled his face. “Lube? Why?”

“I’m not a young woman, Vito, you know this,” she told him.

“What does that… oh.” He shook his head. “I don’t have any lube. Surely we can still…”

Olivia shook her head again. “Not without hurting me.”

He slumped against her, burying his face in her breasts, and swore. “Figlio di puttana!”

“I’m sorry, Vito, I didn’t think about that until just now.” She tugged against his grip on her wrists, but he held on. “But I know a way to make it up to you, until we can get some… if you’re willing to let me try.”

Vito lifted his head. “What’s that?”

“How about I give you a blowjob, and then let you…” She glanced down at her chest.

His eyes followed hers, and she watched the lust surge back to life. He looked at her. “You’d let me fuck your tits?”

“Of course. I told you I was ready, Vito. I just forgot about the lube in my eagerness to be with you.” She smiled. “I guess it’s because you make me feel young.”

Vito smiled, then released her wrists and rolled off her to lie in the middle of the bed, his hands flying to his zipper.

Olivia sat up quickly, and grabbed his hands before he could pull the zip down, and tugged them away with a smile and shake of her head. “Let me,” she told him, then shifted on top of him, straddling his hips, then began to inch her way lower.

“Wait!” Tommasino grabbed her hips. “Before you do, I want to see your tits.”

It was all Olivia could do to not roll her eyes; instead she smiled, and lowered the straps of her sundress, then reached behind her back, and released the catch on her strapless bra, allowing it to fall, freeing and baring her breasts.

“Mio Dio!” he moaned, lifting his hands to her chest.

She allowed him to fondle her for a few moments, then grasped his hands, and drew them away before continuing to slide down his body. Not wanting to drag this out too much longer, she made quick work of his trousers, and in less than a minute she had him out of them and his underpants; she’d also removed the stone from her ring, and twisted it around.

Kneeling between his legs, she took his half hard cock in her right hand, and began stroking him, as she grasped his thigh with her left, squeezing hard; hoping her hand on his cock would distract him from the prick of the ring on his skin. Praying the drug would not take long to knock him out – he was a big man after all - she continued to move her hand up and down his shaft; she really did not want his cock in her mouth.

Olivia took a deep breath, then ducked her head, exhaling the warm breath over his slowly hardening prick.

Tommasino groaned, and thrust into her grip, mumbling in Italian.

Realizing she had little choice, Olivia leaned closer, and darted her tongue out to flick it against the head of his prick.

“Cazzo!” He swore, then reached out for her, his fingers curling around her shoulder. He tugged her closer, then moved his hand to the back of her head, and pushed her head down.

Olivia readied herself to take his cock into her mouth. It wasn’t that she did not enjoy giving oral sex, she did; she just enjoyed it when it was with someone who did not repulse her.

Vito’s grip suddenly lessened, and his hand fell from the back of her head to slap against his thigh.

She glanced up, and saw that the drug had finally kicked in. He was unconscious.

“Thank god,” Olivia muttered, as she let go of his cock, then shifted out from between his legs, and climbed off the bed. She grabbed her bra, put it back on, then tugged the top of her dress back into place.

Once that was done, she picked Tommasino’s trousers up from the floor, and checked the pockets for the USB drive she’d seen him with that morning when she’d wandered into the living room before they left for the festival.

He’d been on the phone, haggling over a price, and had quickly pocketed the drive, then had ended the call the moment he saw her. She had, of course, pretended not to have seen a thing, and had simply walked over to him, and kissed him, rubbing her body against his, distracting him as she’d known it would.

“There you are,” Olivia whispered when her fingers curled around the two inch device, then removed it from the pocket. She gave it a quick look over, and seeing the markings the Ministry of Defense had said were on it, she slipped the drive into the small pocket she’d sewn into the top of her dress.

She looked at Tommasino, and the corners of her mouth curled up in a devilish smile.

Five minutes later, Olivia slipped out of the Don’s bedroom, a large smile on her face. She’d left him trussed up like a turkey, half-naked and tied to his headboard with his trousers; his underwear stuffed into his mouth.

Glancing down the hall, Olivia took a deep breath when she did not see anyone, then headed for the kitchen, and the door that would lead her to cells in the basement, and ultimately to James.


	7. Chapter 7

Tanner knocked on the door, then opened it and walked into M’s office when he heard Mallory call out for him to enter.

Mallory was seated at M’s desk, and while it was odd to see someone there other than the white-haired woman he worked for, he supposed he had better start getting used to it, as Mallory would be taking over as M when M retired at the end of the year.

“Anything?” Mallory asked, looking up at him.

Tanner shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Damn. They were supposed to check in again once they reached the airport in Ambri.” A worried expression came to his face. “Do you suppose something happened?”

“Of course. Bond is involved, so it goes without saying that something went wrong,” he replied, then smiled at the mild amusement that flickered in Mallory’s eyes.

He has lovely eyes, Bill thought, then gave himself a mental shake. Now was not the time for that.

“That doesn’t concern you?” Mallory gestured to the chairs in front of the desk, worry returning to his expression.

“It does,” Bill said, as he sat down.

“It certainly doesn’t show.”

“I’ve had lots of practice when it comes to dealing with Bond,” he told him. “His ways can be a little unorthodox, and he often tends to fly by the seat of his pants, but Bond always gets the job done. That’s why he’s our best agent.” He paused. “And this time, he has M with him; he won’t take any unnecessary chances or let anything happen to her if he can help it.”

Mallory nodded. 

“I’m sure they’ll check in as soon as they’re able, sir.”

“Yes. I’m sure you’re right.” Mallory sighed, then shook his head. “This is obviously something I am going to have to get used to.”

“It will get a little easier, sir.”

“Do you think so?”

“A little, yes,” Tanner offered with a smile.

Mallory chuckled, and the sound that shot straight to Tanner’s groin. He willed his body not to react. It’d been a long time since he’d been attracted to another person.

“She certainly makes it look easy though, doesn’t she?” Mallory remarked.

“Yes she does,” Bill agreed.

He watched Mallory scrub a hand over his face. He looked weary, Bill thought. As weary as he felt, Bill realized.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Mallory’s hand dropped from his face, and he met Tanner’s eyes.

“There’s a pub not that far from here,” Tanner told him. “I know I could use one.”

“I don’t think - ”

“Sir, I know that except for a brief trip home, you’ve not left the building since M went on this mission. One drink won’t hurt. Besides, we both have our mobiles. If there’s an emergency, we can be back in no time at all.”

Mallory looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Sounds good. We’ll need to let someone know where we are.”

“Of course. I’ll take care of that,” Tanner told him, as he got to his feet. “Five minutes?”

Mallory nodded.

Bill smiled, then left the office.

**~*007*~**

“He cares a great deal about her, doesn’t he?”

Bill swallowed his mouthful of beer. “Sir?”

“Bond. He cares a lot about M.”

“We all do, sir.”

“Yes, I see that. But with Bond, it’s a little more I think.”

Tanner frowned, then said in a neutral voice, “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

Mallory shook his head. “I’m not fishing, Bill. It just occurs to me that they both care deeply about one another. Certainly even you are aware of that.”

“Yes. I am,” Bill conceded after a moment or two. “What made you think about that?”

“What you said about Bond not letting anything happen to her, or taking any unnecessary risks because she was with him.”

Bill merely nodded, then took another drink of his beer.

“May I ask you something, sir?”

“Only if you stop with the sir. Call me Gareth,” Mallory told him with a smile. “We’re not at the office.”

Bill smiled, ignoring the flutter Gareth’s smile caused. He could not afford to fall for the man who was going to be his boss in the months to come.

“All right,” he said. “May I ask you something, Gareth?”

Mallory’s smile grew, and he nodded.

“Before the Skyfall incident, you told M you thought she was sentimental about Bond.”

“I did.”

“Do you think that’s why she went after Bond herself?”

Mallory met, and held Bill’s eyes, then answered in a quiet voice, “Yes, I do.”

“Then you see it as well, don’t you?”

To his credit, Mallory did not ask Bill what he meant, he simply nodded.

“Let’s have one more, then head back to Six,” Gareth said a few moments later. 

Bill nodded, but before he could lift his hand to signal the waitress, Gareth reached out, and covered his hand with his.

“This one’s on me,” Gareth told him.

“Thank you, Gareth,” he replied, ignoring the fact that Gareth’s touch seemed to linger a few seconds longer than was necessary.

Bill raised his glass to his lips, and downed the rest of his beer, wondering if perhaps falling for his soon to be boss was not such a bad thing after all.

**~*007*~**

“I owe you an apology.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I owe you an apology,” Mallory repeated.

“For what?”

“For that comment I made the other day in M’s office.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mallory saw Tanner stop walking. He stopped as well, turning to find Bill looking at him inquisitively, his brow furrowed in thought.

“What comment?”

“The one I made suggesting that you did not know how to do your job.”

A bemused smiled tugged at the corners of Tanner’s mouth.

“What?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Bill.”

“Sorry. Gareth.” Bill corrected himself. “Thank you.”

“I should have said it sooner.”

“Perhaps, but I appreciate you saying it all the same.”

Gareth acknowledged him with a small nod. “You are very good at your job, Bill. I honestly don’t know how I would have managed this week without you.”

“You would have, sir.”

“Possibly, but not nearly as well. I see now why M values you so highly,” Gareth told him, then smiled when noticed a hint of pink colour Bill’s cheek. He found it rather charming, and before he realized what he was doing, he grasped Bill’s face in his hands, and kissed him.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Mallory said quietly, a few moments later, as he dropped his hands from Tanner’s face, and took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Tanner reached out, and grabbed Mallory’s waist. “Yes you should have,” he said, pulling him close again, initiating the kiss this time.

Both men groaned as lips parted, and tongues met.

“I’ve been hoping you’d do that all evening,” Bill told him, sounding slightly winded when the kiss finally ended.

Gareth chuckled, panting a little himself. “Have you really?”

“Yes,” Bill replied. “I’ve been attracted to you for some time.”

“How long?”

Bill shook his head.

“Bill…” Gareth cradled the side of Bill’s face when he flushed. “How long?”

“I realized I was attracted to you when you caught me and Q laying that false trail for Silva after Bond kidnapped M from the hearing.”

Gareth’s brows arched in surprise. “That long?”

Bill nodded, and Gareth smiled, then leaned in to kiss him again.

“I want you to know, Bill, I’m not interested in a one off.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m not either.”

“Before we go any further, however, there is something we need to discuss.”

Bill nodded.

“I would very much like for you to stay on as my Chief of Staff when M retires,” Gareth told him. “But I am also very interested is having a relationship with you. I’m selfish. I want both. My question is, do you think we can handle it? Can we be lovers and coworkers?”

“Yes,” Bill said simply. “If M and Bond could do it, I don’t see why we can’t.”

“I thought you said they weren’t a couple.”

“So much as I know,” Bill replied. “After all, M is, well, M, and a former Double-0, and Bond is the best agent here at Six. If they were in a relationship, it’s doubtful we would know anything about it.”

“You’ve got a point.”

“That said, I don’t think they are, but I also think they both want to be,” Bill said.

Gareth nodded, remembering his conversation with M in her office before she’d left to rescue Bond. “I think so, too.”

“But there was, there is, something between them,” Bill told him. “If they can make it work, we can also.”

Gareth smiled, then moved closer, stepping into Bill’s personal space. He slipped his arms around the younger man’s waist, pleased when Bill mirrored his actions. “Yes, I do believe we can.”

They shared another, deeper kiss; both of them breathless when it finally ended.

“This is lousy timing on my part,” Gareth muttered.

Bill chuckled. “Yes it is.”

“We need to get back to the office.”

“Yes we do.”

“M and Bond are still out there.”

“Yes they are, and we need to get them back.”

“And we will.”

“Yes we will,” Gareth agreed, ducking his head to kiss Bill again. “And as soon as we do…”

Bill grinned. “You’re on.”

Gareth smiled, then stepped out of Bills’ arms after giving him one last kiss. He slipped his hand into Bill’s, and they resumed their walk back to Six.

“How do think 007 and M are doing?”

**~*007*~**

Olivia’s eyes opened.

For a moment, she was uncertain of where she was, until the gentle rhythm of the train speeding along the tracks reminded her, and the events that had led to her being on the sleeper train came back to her.

That particular mystery solved, she wondered next what had woken her.

Rolling onto her side, she saw in the near darkness of the cabin that James was no longer asleep on the bench, and she sat up, the light blanket falling to her lap.

A low groan reached her ears, coming from the cabin’s small toilet, and she realized then what had woken her. Reaching out, she switched on the light, then got out of the bed, and padded across the floor.

“James…” she called softly, knocking on the door. “Are you all right?”

The door slid open.

James leaned against the wall, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs, with a small grimace on his face, and a damp wash cloth in his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I shifted wrong while sleeping; the pain woke me up. So I decided to try and wash up,” he explained, holding up the cloth. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little ripe.”

A small smile flitted about her lips. “Oh, I have noticed.”

James snorted, and shook his head. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s all right,” Olivia told him. “How are your ribs? The truth.”

“They hurt,” he answered.

She frowned. “I never did get that ice for you. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s all right, M,” he said, then turned back to the sink, which was filled with water.

Olivia watched as he dipped the cloth into the water, then wrung it out. He slowly raised his right arm, then winced as he attempted to cross his arm over his chest to wash under his arm.

“Fuck!” he swore softly, dropping the cloth back into the water, then braced himself on the counter, and bowed his head.

“James…” she said softly, laying her hand on his back.

He raised his head, and met her eyes in the mirror.

“Step aside,” she told him, her voice still low.

He did as she asked, turning so that she could squeeze into the small washroom with him. It was tight, but there was just enough room for them both to move.

Olivia reached into the sink for the wash cloth. She wrung it out, then grabbed the small bar of soap on the edge of the sink, and worked up a lather on the cloth, then turned to face him.

She started with his right arm, washing from his wrist to shoulder.

“Lift your arm.” It was a quiet command.

James slowly raised his arm again, managing only to get it as high as his shoulder this time. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

Olivia looked up at him to find his eyes were twinkling, and a smirk playing about his lips.

She chuckled softly, and then proceeded to wash his underarms; rinsing the cloth, then wiping down his arms, cleaning away the soap.

Then laying the cloth on his chest, she slowly and methodically, began to wash him. Her touch was light but firm, and she was exceptionally careful moving the wash cloth over his extremely tender ribs.

She concentrated on her task, trying to ignore the heat of his body under her fingers, and the sudden, rapid beating of her heart; tried to ignore the tightening of her nipples beneath the cotton of the long shirt she’d bought to sleep in; tried to ignore the way his breath stirred her hair.

She rinsed the cloth, then began wiping the soap from his chest.

“M…”

Olivia closed her eyes, when she felt his fingers lightly caress her cheek, then slip beneath her chin, and opened them when he gently raised her head.

Her already quickly beating heart began to race at the look in his blue eyes, and her lips parted in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming. He lowered his head, and she moaned when his mouth covered hers, his tongue darting past her lips to meet and stroke hers.

The wash cloth fell from her hand, landing on the floor between them, as she laid her hand on his chest, her fingers splayed out to touch as much of him as she could, while her other hand clutched at his arm, as the kiss deepened.

After a week of enduring Tommasino’s horrendous kisses, kissing James was a revelation.

God, he was a wonderful kisser.

Olivia moaned again, and lost herself in the delicious sensations of James’ oh so talented lips and tongue.

His hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek, then down to rub the corner of her mouth as his tongue curled around hers. When they parted to draw in a much needed breath, James stroked his thumb over her lips, whispering her name, her real name, with such longing it took her breath away before she could properly draw one, and then he was kissing her again.

She gasped into his mouth, her fingers curling against his chest, when his hand closed around her breast, and he began to squeeze and fondle her. Her nipple tightened more under the heat and friction of his palm, and she whimpered when he pinched the hard point between his finger and thumb.

Her nails bit into his bicep, and she pressed closer to him, glorying in the feeling of his hard body all along hers, in the heat of him.

She’d dreamt about this.

“I’ve dreamt about this,” James murmured against her lips, as he backed her up against the bathroom wall, and dropped his other hand so that he held both of her breasts in his hands.

Olivia’s eyes opened, and she pulled her mouth from his. “James… we have to stop.”

“I want you, M.” His voice was rough with need.

“I want you, too. But we can’t yet,” she told him. “You’re hurt, James.”

He grasped her hand, and pulled it down between them so that she was cupping his cock. “Not that hurt.”

Olivia could not help chuckling, and shook her head fondly, even as she began to lightly stroke him through his underwear. She felt her pussy throb, and begin to grow damp with the thought of him inside her.

“I want you fully healed, James.”

“It’s never stopped me before.”

She pressed her hand against his ribs, just hard enough to elicit a hiss of pain from him, and to have him flinch away from her, proving her point.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and gentled her touch, lightly caressing his side in apology.

James sighed, and leaned his forehead against hers. “Christ, this is agony.”

Olivia smiled, then removed her hand from his cock, and reached up to cup his cheek. “For me, too.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She began carding her fingers through his hair. “You sound surprised.”

He raised his head. “I am. You’re M.”

“Yes, I am M, but I am also a woman.”

“You are definitely that,” James agreed, running a hand down her side, his thumb brushing the side of her breast. “Shit, M, I never in a million years thought you’d feel this way, or see me as anything other than your agent, and a pain in your arse.”

“A very vivid pain in the arse,” she remarked dryly, but her eyes sparkled with barely suppressed amusement.

A small snort escaped him as he nodded.

“However, you are also my best agent.”

James grinned.

Olivia smiled fondly at him, still feathering her fingers through his hair. “I would never admit this to anyone else, and I will deny ever having said it, but I like that I can’t quite bring you to heel.” 

His eyebrows rose up in surprise, and she laughed quietly.

“Occasionally you do follow orders, but I like that you trust your instincts, and will disregard my orders if you feel they’ll compromise the mission.”

“And here I thought that drove you crazy.”

“It does,” she admitted. “Along with your tendency to not check in. But it’s also what makes you my best agent.” Olivia watched as a faint blush coloured his cheeks and the tips of his ears at her praise. “But I also know, in spite of those tendencies, that I have your respect.”

James nodded emphatically. “You most certainly do.”

“Which is why I let you get away with most of the things you do.”

He shook his head, clearly surprised.

“How long, M?” James asked in a quiet voice, seconds later.

Olivia did not ask him to clarify; she knew what he was asking. “Longer than I care to admit.”

He smiled.

“I could ask you the same. How long?”

“From the moment I met you,” he answered without hesitation. “At least it feels that way to me.”

It was her turn to look at him in surprise.

“I am so much older than you, James.”

“I don’t care. I have never cared about that,” James said, insistently. “All I know, is that you have fascinated me from that very first meeting. The minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

“Did you really?”

James nodded. “Oh yes. I especially wanted to get my hands on these.” His eyes dropped to her chest, as he brought his hands up to bracket her breasts.

Olivia chuckled, which made her breasts shake in his hands, and the desire grew in his eyes.

“It was lust. Pure and simple lust,” he continued, still staring at her chest, even though they were covered. He squeezed them gently, and brushed his thumbs over her nipples. “At least in the beginning that’s all it was, and then it became a challenge.”

“Getting me into bed?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, lifting his head, and meeting her eyes. “I didn’t care that you were married. I just wanted you.”

Olivia nodded. She remembered his dogged pursuit of her. He hadn’t been subtle about it.

“What changed?” she asked, remembering when it suddenly _had_ changed, and his flirtations had grown more subtle, more playful… more respectful.

“I realized you loved your husband. I could see it in your eyes the few times you mentioned him, and it suddenly hit me that I couldn’t do that to you; that I couldn’t seduce you into having an affair with me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d come to respect you; in a way I never have with any other woman,” James told her. “As you know, I regard most women as disposable. That’s how I have to see them if I am to do my job properly.”

Olivia nodded. She understood that all too well.

“But you are not one of those women. You never could be. And when that distinction happened, that’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with you, M…”

She inhaled sharply. She hadn’t expected that. She’d hoped for mutual attraction, but love… “James?”

“It’s true.” His hands left her breasts to cradle her face. “I love you, M.”

“Olivia,” she whispered, and watched a large smile blossom across his face.

“Olivia,” James repeated softly, as his eyes filled with tenderness. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, James,” Olivia responded, her voice cracking slightly with the emotion swelling within her.

She rose up on her toes, as he lowered his head, and their mouths met in a gentle, loving kiss, so very different from the hungry passionate kisses they’d shared only moments before, but just as satisfying, and just as arousing.

When the kiss finally slowed, then ended, they rested their foreheads together once again, holding each other in a loose embrace in deference to his injured ribs.

“As soon as my ribs are healed…”

“We will make love to each other,” she finished in a throaty voice, pulling back to smile up at him.

He nodded, smiling as well.

“I would also prefer to do so in a proper bed.”

He chuckled. “That would be much better, yes.”

“So, with that thought in mind, I am going to go search up some ice for your ribs and your eye,” Olivia told him. “And I know you’re used to stronger doses, but I’m going to get some painkillers as well. Every little bit helps.”

“All right,” James replied.

“Are you finished in here?”

James shook his head. “I need to…” He gestured to the toilet. “And as much as I would love your hands on me again, I’m sure I can manage this myself.”

Olivia chuckled, then slipped out of the cramped lavatory when he stepped away from her. Once he’d closed the door, Olivia moved back into the main cabin, then began unbuttoning the top she wore.

She was not about to roam the train in her pyjamas. Even if said pyjamas were nothing more than an oversized man’s shirt, and her kickers.

She had just slipped the top off her shoulders, leaving her in just her knickers, and was reaching for her dress from the hook beside the bunk, when she heard the bathroom door open.

“Fuck!”

James’ softly uttered curse reached her ears, and she turned slightly, holding the dress to her chest, and glanced back over her shoulder. She felt her body flush with sudden arousal at the stark need and desire she could see darkening his blue eyes as he raked them over her.

Their eyes met, and Olivia felt the breath rush out of her lungs, as he slowly advanced toward her; his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped mere inches from her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body all along hers.

“Olivia…”

She could hear the unmistakable plea, the longing, in his voice, and leaned back against him. She held her breath when his hands cupped her elbows, and slid up her arms to her wrists, which he then grasped gently, then slowly lowered her arms.

Her eyes closed when she felt his cheek against her temple as he peered over her shoulder.

She exhaled slowly as she heard his breath hitch; felt his hands tighten on her wrists, and his cock swell against her lower back.

“May I touch you, Olivia? Please?” James asked, his voice low and raspy against her ear.

Olivia smiled.

Given that he’d already had his hands on her breasts only five minutes earlier, she found it both amusing and endearing that he was asking for permission to touch her now.

But she knew why he was asking.

Knew it was because she was practically naked in his arms; both of them clad only in their underwear, and having just admitted their feelings and desire for each other, that their control was tenuous at best.

“Yes,” Olivia replied softly.

He brushed his lips against her ear in thanks, as he released her wrists, then lifted his hands to her breasts, cupping the large, bare mounds in his hands. He fondled them gently, teasing her nipples into hard, aching points with his thumbs, before he removed his hands, and turned her around to face him.

“My god, Olivia… you are magnificent!” James told her, as he took her breasts into his hands once again, then bent down to take her left nipple between his lips.

“James!” she gasped, as he sucked firmly on the sensitive tip, and reached out to grab hold of his shoulders.

He suckled her for several moments, then switched to her other breast, nibbling on her nipple before swirling his tongue around it, then sucking hard.

She was on the verge of telling him to hell with waiting, when he allowed her breast to fall from his mouth, then straightened up, and drew her into his arms, wrapping his firmly around her, as he laid his cheek against the top of her head.

He was breathing heavily; his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her head, as she wound her arms around loosely around him, being mindful again of his aching ribs. She could hear the wild tattoo of his heart beneath her ear, and knew hers was beating just as fiercely.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?” she whispered back.

“I let myself get carried away,” he answered. “I just want you so much.”

“I know.”

“But you’re right. We need to wait until I’m healed. Yes, I’ve had sex before with worse injuries, but this is more than sex.” He cupped the back of her head, and urged her to look up at him. “I want to make love to you. Properly. And I need to be healed to do that.”

“Yes you do,” Olivia smiled, pleased that he had realized it. “We will also need to buy some lube.”

Confusion filled his eyes. “Why lube?”

“I’m not young, James. The desire is there, but at my age, that’s not always enough, and my body no longer works the way I want it to.”

“You don’t get wet?” he asked.

“I do. Just not like I used to, or as easily,” Olivia explained. “And definitely not enough to take you without you hurting me.”

“I didn’t realize that,” James said. “Then we’ll put that on the top of our list.”

Olivia chuckled, and nodded. “But first, we need to get you healed, and in order to start that process, I need to get you some ice to help with the swelling and pain. Otherwise we won’t be needing the lube for a while.”

“Then I had best let you go,” James replied, as he lowered his head to kiss her.

It lasted only a few seconds, but both were breathless when it ended.

Olivia stepped out of his arms, then crouched down to pick up her dress from the floor, where it had slipped out of her fingers when he had taken her breasts in his hands. Standing, she pulled it over her head, then tugged and shimmied it into place.

“No bra?”

She shook her head. “I won’t be gone long enough to worry about that, but if it will make you feel better, I’ll wear a sweater.”

“It would, yes,” he told her. “A little chauvinistic of me, I know.”

“A little, but that’s all right.” Olivia smiled, and reached for the cardigan she’d bought in the clothing store in the Lucerne railway station, which was still hanging on the hook where her dress had been, and slipped it on. “Better?”

“Yes.” James nodded.

Olivia patted his chest as she stepped past him to grab the canvas bag from the end of the seat he’d fallen asleep on earlier. Opening it, she reached inside, she pulled out a small dagger encased in a leather sheath, with a leg holster.

“Just in case,” she told him, when she saw his look of surprise.

James’ hand closed around hers. “Allow me,” he said, taking the knife from her, as he sat down.

Olivia moved to stand in front of him, and lifted her right leg, placing her foot on the edge of the seat between his thighs.

“Along with your breasts,” James murmured, as he raised her foot just enough to slip the holster over it and to her ankle, then began to slowly slide it up her calf, pushing the skirt of her dress up as he went. “I love your legs. I have had many dreams about them wrapped around me as I made love to you.”

“James…” she moaned, as he manoeuvred the holster into place on her thigh, adjusting it so the dagger was on the outside of her thigh, then stroked his hands down her leg to her ankle.

He leaned forward, as he continued to caress her leg, placing a light kiss to her knee, as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Go get the ice,” he told her, then sat up straight and pulled her dress back down. 

Olivia lowered her leg, then stepped into her shoes. “I won’t be too long,” she said, as she moved to the door, and unlocked it.

“I’ll be here.”

She smiled, opened the door, then exited the cabin, and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against the wall, and took several deep breaths, willing her body to calm down, and her heart to stop racing.

A few moments later, feeling much more calm, Olivia pushed herself away from the wall, then made her way down the corridor toward the dining car. She had hopes that someone would still be awake, and willing to provide some ice for James’ ribs.

She couldn’t help smiling though, as she wandered through the cars.

James loved her.

She felt suddenly giddy, and only just managed to suppress a very uncharacteristic giggle. Get a hold of yourself, Olivia, she thought to herself. But even so, she could not wipe the smile from her face at knowing that James felt the same way about her as she did him.

Finally entering the dining car, Olivia was relieved to see there was someone from the staff still there, and walked over to the young lady.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes, ma’am. How may I help you?”

“I was wondering if I could get some ice from you, and a spare tea towel. The friend I’m traveling with has badly injured his ribs, and the ice will help with the pain and swelling,” Olivia explained.

The young stewardess winced, and nodded. “Of course. I’ll just pop into the galley, and get some for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I won’t be a moment,” the younger woman told her, then hurried off into the galley.

Olivia stepped between two of the dining tables, and peered out the window in the darkness at the barely visible passing scenery as she waited. She heard the door at the back of the car slide open, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone enter the car, but paid them little attention, and continued to look out the train’s window.

The footsteps stopped just behind her.

“I believe you owe me a blow job.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Any word?”

Tanner and Mallory stopped in the doorway of Tanner’s office at the sight of Beatrix, and the other five ladies that had helped M in Como, looking at them with anxious expressions on their faces.

“Ladies, what are you doing here so late?” Mallory asked.

“We’re all worried about M and 007,” Beatrix answered. “When we checked in with you upon returning, you told us you hadn’t heard anything. We’re wondering if that’s changed.”

Tanner looked at Mallory. “Sir, I know it’s against protocol, but these ladies have earned the right to be kept in the loop.”

Mallory nodded. “I agree.” He turned to the women. “We received a call from Bond, just yesterday afternoon.”

“So they did get out?”

“They did.”

“Thank God,” Maisie said, voicing the relief Tanner could see in all their faces.

“When is their next check in?” Gwendolyn enquired.

“It should have been several hours ago when they arrived at Ambri airport.”

“Damn. We should never have left,” Beatrix said, and the others nodded their agreement.

“You were following orders.”

“And of course, 007 always follows orders,” Imogen remarked, drawing chuckles from everyone in the office, Tanner included.

“Do you think they’re all right?” Lydia asked quietly.

“Of course they are!” Mallory said immediately. “If I have learned one thing these last several months, it’s that 007 is _very_ resourceful.”

“Yes he is, and so is M,” Beatrix spoke up. “She was when she was 007, and that’s not something you ever truly lose. She’s also a tough old bird, and can take care of herself.”

“So you see. They are both all right, and I suspect we shall hear from them any day now.”

The ladies exchanged hopeful but worried glances.

“I hope you’re right, Mr. Mallory,” Arabella said.

Tanner looked at Mallory, and he could see the worry the other man was trying to hide from the others.

They both hoped he was right as well.

**~*007*~**

“I believe you owe me a blow job.”

Shit! Olivia swore silently.

“A blow job, a fuck, and I also believe you are in possession of something of mine.”

She slowly turned to find Don Vito Tommasino standing before her, his hands clasped behind his back, smiling at her. And beside him, Gianni.

Ignoring Vito, she looked at the younger man. “I did not want to believe it when he said you were the one who betrayed him.”

“My apologies, Signora,” Gianni said with a shrug. “Don Tommasino is a better patrono than MI6.”

Vito laid his hand on Gianni’s shoulder, giving it a few gentle pats. “A good, loyal friend,” he said. “He should have told me when you arrived that you were a British spy, but I forgive him now. Now that I’ve got you.” He turned to Cazale. “Bond’s on the train. The USB drive is probably with him. Find him, get the drive, then kill Bond.”

“Yes, sir.” Gianni nodded, then left the dining car, leaving her alone with Tommasino.

Olivia’s attention returned to the old Don.

“Alone at last,” Vito said, looking her up and down. “I must say, while I prefer redheads, the white hair is most becoming on you, my dear.”

“I’m glad you approve,” she replied, her voice rife with sarcasm.

“Now, now, Rowena, is that any way to respond to a compliment?”

Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want, Vito?”

“I’ve already told you what I want,” Vito said, then without warning, his arm shot out, and he struck her hard across the face.

Stunned, Olivia staggered back a step, then suddenly found herself in Tommasino’s arms, her right arm bent behind her back, as his mouth covered hers in a sloppy kiss, that nearly had her gagging as he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

He ended the kiss with a hard bite to her bottom lip.

“Now, what do you say we go to my cabin, and finish what we started in Como, while Gianni takes care of that figlio di puttana.”

**~*007*~**

Waking from the light doze he’d fallen into, James opened his eyes as he rolled his head toward the cabin door.

He frowned as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Something wasn’t right. He could feel it in his gut.

He sat up slowly, taking care not to jar his ribs, which had begun to ache again, and glanced at his watch.

Olivia had only been gone for fifteen minutes.

James knew she could take care of herself. She’d more than proved that this last week, but the worry in his gut only grew worse with each passing moment; everything in him screaming that she was in trouble.

Before he could do anything, however, he realized that he needed to get some clothes on; that he couldn’t roam the train in just his boxers. 

He quickly got to his feet.

“Fuck!” he swore when his ribs protested the abrupt move, but he ignored the pain as he made his way to the toilet where he’d left his trousers.

Still on the floor where he’d dropped them, he bent over, picked them up, then carefully stepped into them, and pulled them up. He’d just finished zipping them when there was a knock on the cabin door.

Worry rushed over him again. Olivia would have no reason to knock… unless she was in trouble.

Knowing this, he walked quietly to the door, then peered through the peephole. He did not see anyone, but instinct was telling him there _was_ someone there, and he’d bet anything it was one of Tommasino’s goons.

He glanced around the cabin for something to use as a weapon, wishing now that he’d kept Carmine’s gun.

Another knock sounded.

Still not spotting anything that could be used as a weapon, and knowing he did not have time to find Olivia’s gun, James cursed silently, and shook his head in frustration.

Not having a weapon handy was beginning to become a habit.

“Aprire la porte, James.”

James recognized Gianni’s voice, and his frustration gave way to anger. If Gianni was on board the train, there was a very real chance there were more of Tommasino’s men were on board as well, which meant that Olivia was very much in danger.

His only advantage, James knew, was that Gianni did not carry a gun. At least he hadn’t the whole time James had been with him before the other man had blown his cover with the Don. In fact, he hadn’t seen Gianni handle any kind of weapon at all. 

With that thought in mind, and praying his luck would hold out, James suddenly yanked the door open, surprising Gianni, as he’d hoped, then threw a punch, which caught the Italian on the side of the face. It was enough to stun the other man, and James grabbed him, and hauled him into the cabin.

He flung the door closed, then without any thought to his ribs, James tackled Gianni, and the two fell to the floor.

James grunted with the impact, but ignored the jolt of pain, as he wrestled with Gianni in the confined space, exchanging blows, and kicks.

Gaining control, James rolled on top of Gianni, straddling him, and began to immediately punch the other man in the face. He swore when Gianni’s fists connected with his ribs, and his body tensed as more pain lanced through his body.

Without warning, he found himself on his back with Gianni looming over him, his knee planted on James’ chest.

“Tell me where the USB is, Bond!” Gianni demanded, leaning hard against James’ ribs.

“Fuck you!” James growled.

Gianni pressed harder, and James found it difficult to draw a breath, and his vision soon began to blur from the lack of oxygen and the intensifying pain.

Thoughts of M filled his mind. If he passed out, or allowed Gianni to kill him, he would not be able to help her.

“All right,” he gasped, screwing his face up in a hard wince for effect. “All right, I’ll tell you… just… please…” He pushed against Gianni’s knee.

Gianni eased the pressure of his knee just a little, and James drew in a deep breath.

Or at least, he tried.

Pain lanced through him, and he realized that a couple of his very bruised ribs were no doubt cracked now from the beating they’d just endured.

“Where is it?”

James gasped when Gianni increased the pressure on his chest again. He knew he needed to get Gianni off him in order to stop him.

“The bathroom,” he told him in a raspy voice.

The weight on his chest returned as Gianni leaned forward again. “What are you trying to pull, Bond. Tell me where it is.”

“It’s in the bathroom,” he repeated. “In the toiletry bag.”

Gianni regarded him for a moment, then with a final, hard push against James’ ribs, he scrambled to his feet, and pulled a pocket knife from his pocket.

So much for him not having a weapon, James thought as Gianni opened the knife to reveal a four inch blade. 

“On your feet, James,” Gianni ordered, gesturing with the knife. “And no funny business, or I will kill you, then find the drive myself.”

With the aid of the bench seat, James carefully got to his feet.

“Now, get the drive.” Gianni gestured to the toilet with the knife.

James turned, and slowly walked to the bathroom. He would only have one shot at this, he knew. Spotting the bag of toiletries they’d purchased in Lucerne, sitting on the counter next to the sink, James reached inside, hoping he’d find something inside that would be useful.

His fingers touched, then curled around small bottle of aftershave Olivia had bought for him. It wasn’t much, he thought, but it just might be enough to help him gain the upper hand. He carefully twisted the cap off the bottle, then held his thumb over the opening.

“Hurry up, Bond!”

James whirled around, taking his thumb away from the top of the bottle, and threw the contents into Gianni’s face.

Gianni screamed as the aftershave got into his eyes, and the knife fell from his hand as he brought both of them up to rub at his eyes.

It was all the distraction James needed.

He threw himself at Gianni, slamming the man’s head repeatedly against the wall until he was unconscious, and slumped into a heap on the floor.

James stood over him, breathing heavily. He needed to do something with him, secure him somehow, and he needed to do so quickly.

Glancing around the cabin, he spotted the blind on the window, and smiled. Perfect.

He yanked the cord from the blind, and used it to tie Gianni’s hands and feet together, then stuffed a washcloth into his mouth, before shoving the still unconscious man into the bathroom, and closed the door.

He bent to pick up Gianni’s discarded knife, and then, not bothering with a shirt or shoes, James left the cabin in search of Olivia.

He hoped like hell that nothing had happened to her.

**~*007*~**

“Ah, here we are.”

They stopped in front of a cabin door, Olivia wincing when Vito put extra pressure on her arm, which he still held pinned at her back.

Vito reached around her, opened the door, then shuffled them inside the cabin. Leaning back against the door after he closed it, he let go of her arm, but before she could move away from him, he grasped her upper arms, and pulled her back against him.

“Alone at last,” he husked in her ear, then lowered his head, and bit her shoulder.

Olivia bit her lip.

She could feel the dagger, the metal hot through the suede sheath, on her thigh, and she itched to grab it, and slip it between Vito’s ribs, into his heart.

But she knew she couldn’t just yet. It wasn’t the right moment.

“Time to collect what you owe me,” Vito told her, as he closed his hands around her breasts. He squeezed them roughly, and pinched her nipples, twisting them hard between his fingers. “And you are going to pay up, Rowena. If that is even your real name.”

He spun her around to face him, but before she could say anything, he struck her across the face.

Olivia gasped, but did not cry out.

Vito then grabbed the back of her head, his fingers fisting in her short hair, and pulled her head back. His other hand closed around her throat in a firm, tight grip, his thumb stroking her clavicle. 

“I could kill you,” he said in a low voice. “Right here, right now. Just squeeze the life out of you. But first…” 

He let go of her throat, then grabbed the front of her dress, and ripped it away, exposing her breasts.

Olivia watched the lust spread over Vito’s features as he stared at her bare chest.

It was nothing like the lust she’d seen on James’ face, where the lust was mixed with respect and love in his beautiful blue eyes.

No, this was just lust in its ugliest form, and it made Olivia’s skin crawl.

Another wave of nausea rolled through her stomach when Vito began to paw at her breasts again, his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipples; unwilling to subject herself to anymore of his groping, Olivia took a swing at him, striking him in the face.

“Bitch!” Vito growled, catching her wrist when she took another swing, and pinned her arm behind her back once again. “I was going to make it good for you.”

A small cry of pain escaped her, as his grip tightened in her hair, and he yanked her head back.

“But now…” He began walking her back toward the bunk. “Now, I am simply going to take what you owe me.”

His fingers released their grip in her hair, and he reached between them to release the snap on his trousers and lower his fly, then shoved her down onto the bunk, and followed her down, pinning her to the thin mattress.

Olivia shoved at his shoulders with little effect, and struggled beneath him, even as his heavy weight settled against her.

Vito laughed, and ducked his head, burying his face in her breasts, biting at the tender flesh, as he began to rut against her; groaning and grunting.

Olivia could feel his growing erection, and the nausea returned.

No! She thought. No!

She stopped struggling, and drew her right leg up, bending her knee, as she rested her hands on his shoulders; the skirt of her dress fell, exposing her thigh.

“That’s it,” Vito muttered, giving her left breast a sloppy lick over the spot where he’d just bit her. “I knew you’d like it rough,” he said. “Just putting on an act, making me work for it, is that it?”

Olivia did not respond.

She stroked her hand down his upper arm, then along his side until her fingers curled around the handle of her dagger, and she slid the knife out of the sheath as Vito reached down with his right hand, and shoved at his trousers as he bit her nipple.

Olivia jammed the dagger into his side.

Vito cried out. 

She pulled the knife out, then plunged it back in his side, and gave the blade a sharp twist.

He howled in pain, and swore violently.

Taking advantage of the moment, Olivia bucked under him in another attempt to knock him off her. She yanked the dagger out of his side, now slick with his blood, then stuck the knife into his arm, slicing the top of his hand as he reached back to try and take it away from her.

“Bitch!” he growled, yanking his hand back with a hiss, then fell onto the floor of the cabin when she pushed at him again.

Olivia scrambled off the bunk, and stood over him, panting harshly. Splotches of his blood were on her breasts and her dress, and she held her dagger clenched tightly in her hand.

“Bitch!” Vito repeated angrily, as he rolled onto his side, then used the bench to pull himself up onto his knees. “I am going to make you pay for this.” He placed his hand on his side, then looked down at it when he pulled it away, to find it covered with blood. “And I am going to enjoy breaking you.” He got to his feet. “Every moment of it.”

He lunged at her.

Olivia feinted to the left, just managing to avoid him, and moved further into the cabin, as Vito crashed into the wall with a grunt, swearing loudly. He turned to glare at her, breathing heavily.

“Don’t do it, Vito,” she warned him, as she backed away toward the window, putting some distance between them. She knew it was a very unwise move, as it cut off her escape route, but she needed to keep some distance between them.

“You need to be taught a lesson,” he told her.

Her fingers gripped the dagger tighter, as she watched his body tense; she knew he was preparing to charge her again.

The door to the room burst open, startling them both; Tommasino stumbling back into the wall again as the door hit him.

“M!” James exclaimed as he stepped into the compartment, then stopped dead.

Olivia saw the fury grow in his eyes as he looked at her, taking in her dishevelled appearance: her torn dress, blood splattered across her breasts, the knife still in her hand also covered with blood.

“That son of a bitch!” James hissed, then turned sharply, and threw himself at Vito.

The two men toppled to the floor, and rolled, James ending up on top.

James straddled the other man, and fisting his hand in Tommasino’s shirt, James began beating him; punch after punch connecting with the Don’s face.

Olivia winced when she heard Vito’s nose break.

“James! James stop!” she told him.

He continued to pummel the man.

“007!”

James stilled instantly, fist raised. “But, M… this bastard deserves to die,” he spat the words out.

“Yes he does,” she agreed. “But he’s more valuable to us alive.”

James’ fist began to shake, and Olivia could see that he was fighting with himself - the agent warring with the man in love.

Olivia sympathized.

Tommasino had hurt James; had severely beaten him, and kept him chained up in a cell in his basement, and had planned to kill him. 

As much as she wanted to let Bond kill him, as much as she herself wanted to kill him, Olivia knew Tommasino was more valuable to them, to Six, alive.

“James…”

James huffed in annoyance, but lowered his fist. He let go of Tommasino’s collar; the older man’s head hit the floor with a thud.

“Is he still alive?”

“Yes. Just unconscious,” James replied as he climbed to his feet, then stepped over to her, and pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him. “Did he…?”

Olivia shook her head. “No.”

“Thank god.”

“What on earth happened here?!”

Olivia and James sprang apart to find the conductor standing in the open door of the cabin, his face a mixture of shock and horror.

“Are you all right?” The conductor asked, his eyes wide as he looked at Olivia.

She looked down, and felt her body flush. She’d forgotten that her dress was ripped, and that her chest was exposed, in the wake of James’ appearance, and his beating of Tommasino.

James reached down to grab the tattered remains of the top of her dress, and tug it up in an effort to cover her breasts, while she pulled the sides of her cardigan together. 

“I’m fine,” Olivia replied.

“Is that… that’s Don Tommasino!” The conductor exclaimed, as he looked down at the still unconscious man on the floor. His head snapped back up, and he shot them a worried look. “Is he dead?”

“No,” James said simply, then muttered under his breath, “Though not from want of trying.”

Olivia shot him a look, then turned to the conductor. “No. He’s not dead, although he does need medical attention. He’s been stabbed twice,” she told him, holding up her dagger.

The conductor’s eyes grew wide. “You stabbed him?”

“Self defense,” Olivia replied simply, as she wiped the blade on the skirt of her dress, then returned the knife to its sheath. “He attacked me.”

“Mio Dio!” He gestured to her torn dress, and then the bruise on her cheek. “He did that?”

“Yes.” Olivia glanced at the man’s name tag, then met his eyes. “Signor Rosato, we’re with British Intelligence.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “You are?”

Olivia nodded. “Yes. Don Tommasino is wanted on several counts of terrorism. We’re taking him into custody.”

Rosato’s eyebrows went up again.

“Can I count on your assistance?”

“Of course, Signora.” He nodded. “What can I do to help?”

“First, he is going to need a doctor. Do you happen to know if there is a physician among the passengers?”

“I don’t know for certain, no, but I can check the manifest.”

“Thank you,” Olivia replied. “We’re also going to need a secure place to hold him until we can get him off the train, which I am hoping we’ll be able to facilitate at the next stop.”

“That would be Karlsruhe Station,” Rosato informed her.

“How long until we reach that?”

“A little over ninety minutes. There we have a thirty minute layover.”

Olivia looked at James thoughtfully.

“It just might be possible,” he told her, answering the question she knew he’d seen in her eyes.

“All right.” She nodded, then turned back to the other man. “Do you have a phone I can use?”

Rosato reached into his pocket, pulled out a mobile, and handed it to her.

She quickly punched in a number, then held the phone to her ear. “Tanner,” she said, the moment she heard the call connect.

_“M! Ma’am, it’s good to hear your voice!”_

Olivia couldn’t help smiling at the relief she could hear in her Chief of Staff’s voice. “It’s good to hear yours as well, Bill.”

_“We’ve been worried about you. You haven’t been checking in.”_

“I assure you, Tanner, 007’s tendency to not do so has not rubbed off on me. Our phone was damaged.” Her smile grew when James flashed her a dirty look. “Is Mallory there?”

_“He’s in your office. Hold on a moment, I’ll transfer you over.”_

“Thank you.” She turned to James while she waited. “Gianni?”

“Tied up in the loo in our cabin.”

_“M!”_

Mallory’s voice sounded in her ear before she could reply, and she turned away from Bond and Rosato as Bond began to talk with the conductor.

“Hello, Gareth.”

 _“It’s good to hear your voice,”_ he told her.

“Yours, too,” Olivia said, then was immediately all business. “I’m afraid we don’t have time for small talk.”

_“Understood. What do you need?”_

“An extraction team, on a plane in the next ten minutes, enroute to Karlsruhe Station.”

_“You’re on a train?!”_

“Yes. A long story which I will explain later,” she told him. “The train will be arriving at the station in about ninety minutes.”

There was a short pause, and Olivia knew Mallory was calculating the distance and travel time. _“It will take that long for the plane to get there.”_

“I know. We’ll be cutting it close,” Olivia said. “But there’s a thirty minute layover, so it will work.”

 _“They’ll be there, then we’ll get you and Bond home,”_ Mallory promised her. _“I assume, given the urgency, it’s not just you and Bond we’re picking up.”_

“You assume correctly.”

_“Tommasino?”_

“Yes. As well as Gianni.”

_“Christ, they’re on the train with you?”_

“Yes.”

_“Are you and Bond all right?”_

“Yes, we’re fine. A little worse for the wear, but all right.”

_“I’ll make certain to include a medic on the extraction team.”_

“I was just going to suggest that. Tommasino is need of one.”

 _“Tomma…”_ A small smile curled the corner of her mouth. She could picture Mallory shaking his head. _“I’m really looking forward to hearing your report now.”_

Olivia chuckled.

_“I’ll get that team assembled right away._

“Thank you, Gareth.”

_“Is there anything else?”_

“No. That will be it.”

_“Very well. We’ll see you in a few hours, M. Good luck.”_

Olivia murmured her thanks again, then disconnected the call. She turned away from the window to find James leaning against the wall near the open door, 

“Where’s Rosato?” she asked James when she noticed he was absent.

“Gone to see if there is a doctor on board,” James replied. “He’s also going to send one of the guards here to watch Tommasino.”

“Good.” Olivia nodded. “What about Gianni?”

“As soon as the guard shows up, I will go back to our cabin, then bring him here.”

“You can’t do that by yourself! You’re hurt, James!”

James gave her a pointed look.

“All right, I know; still you shouldn’t do it by yourself, you’ll just hurt yourself more.”

“And I definitely do not want that,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall. He stepped over to her, and drew her into his arms.

She wrapped her arms loosely around him, and laid her head on his shoulder. It felt good to be held by him. “Not if you want to take our relationship further, no.”

“I’ll wait for Rosato to return.”

“Wise decision.” Olivia smirked, then pressed a light kiss to his chest. She smiled gratefully up at him. “Thank you.”

James ducked his head, and kissed her gently. “A completely selfish decision on my part, believe me,” he told her, arching a suggestive eyebrow.

Olivia laughed.

A throat cleared behind them.

She glanced around him to see Rosato standing in the doorway with two other men. She tugged her cardigan closed, wishing she’d bought one that buttoned up, then stepped out of James’ embrace to face the men.

“Signora, I found a doctor.” Rosato gestured to the man on his right.

“Robert Hagen, Ma’am,” the man introduced himself.

He was a short, balding man with kind eyes, and an easy smile, who looked to be in his early fifties, and from the sound of his accent, he was not British or European; possibly American, she thought to herself.

He was also, she noted, wearing pyjamas, over which he’d pulled a dark robe. 

“I’m sorry to have woken you so late,” Olivia told him.

“Not a problem,” Hagen replied. “A doctor is always on call, even when on vacation.”

“I know how that goes,” Olivia remarked dryly, noting the small smirk on James’ face from the corner of her eye.

“Signor Rosato tells me you are in need of medical assistance.” His eyes fell on the unconscious Tommasino, then darted back up to hers.

Olivia smiled, and nodded. “And he would be your patient.”

Hagen moved further in to the cabin.

“Hold on a moment, Doctor,” James said, and held up his hand. He looked over at Rosato and the other man. “Did you bring the…” He smiled when the guard held up two pairs of cuffs: hand and leg. “Good.”

James took the irons from the guard, then crouched down and put the legcuffs on Tommasino’s ankles.

“Is that necessary?” Hagen asked, watching as James shifted around the prone man, and slipped the second pair of cuffs on Tommasino’s wrists.

“Yes,” James replied simply, as he stood. “He’s all yours.”

“Thank you,” the doctor said. “What happened?”

“He was stabbed twice on the left side,” Olivia told him.

As Hagen knelt beside Tommasino, Olivia turned to James. “While the doctor’s looking at Tommasino, why don’t you retrieve Gianni from our cabin.”

He hesitated.

“I’ll be all right, James.”

“Yes, ma’am.” James nodded, then gestured for the guard to follow him, and left the cabin.

Once he was gone, Olivia turned to Rosato, and held out his phone. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Signora.” He smiled. “Your people will be there, yes?”

“Yes, they will be,” she answered, then looked down at the doctor. “Will he live, Doctor?”

“Yes. He’s lost a lot of blood, however. I’ve managed to stop the bleeding, but he will need an infusion, or he will die,” Hagen told her, as he dressed Tommasino’s wounds. “This man, did he give you that bruise on your cheek?”

“Yes.”

“Did he also do that to your friend?”

“He’s responsible, yes.”

“That is some spectacular bruising. I’d wager he has a few cracked ribs, and he’s got to be in considerable pain, though you wouldn’t know it from looking at him.”

“Yes, he’s good at hiding it,” Olivia said.

“Signora.” Rosato called to her quietly. “They are returning.”

Moments later, James and the train’s security guard shuffled into the compartment carrying a struggling Gianni who was still bound and gagged.

“On the seat, Carlos,” James told the guard, and they hefted Gianni onto the bench.

Muffled curses sounded around the gag in Gianni’s mouth as they dropped him unceremoniously onto the seat.

James moved to her side just as the doctor got to his feet.

“I’ve done all I can for him,” Hagen told them. “He needs a hospital, and soon.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Olivia said. “I appreciate all your help.”

“You’re very welcome,” the doctor replied, then stepped outside of the cabin.

“Signora, this is Carlos Livrano,” Rosato introduced the young security guard to her. “He has agreed to watch over Don Tommasino and this other man.”

“We appreciate it, Carlos,” James said to the slightly younger man. “Just remember what I told you.”

“I won’t forget. I know what he’s capable of.”

James nodded, then slipped his hand into Olivia’s. “If anything changes - ”

“I’ll come get you,” Carlos finished for him.

“Good,” James said, then glanced at Olivia. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Together, they stepped out of the cabin; the conductor following, closing the door behind him.

They watched as he locked the door.

“I will come get you before we arrive at Karlsruhe Station,” Rosato informed them.

“Thank you,” Olivia replied, then allowed James to lead her down the corridor to their compartment.

**~*007*~**

Olivia turned at the click of the lock.

They were alone.

“Are you all right?”

“To be honest, I could use a little time off.”

“I could, too.”

“Do you think the lady in charge will give us some?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she moved closer. “I think it’s within the realm of possibility.”

“Is there anything I can do to convince her?”

“Yes,” Olivia replied softly. “Hold her.”

A tender look came to James’ face. “That I can do gladly,” he said, and he reached out to tug her gently into his arms.

Olivia laid her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms loosely around him, taking care not to further injure his ribs.

“Are you all right?”

The words were whispered softly into her hair.

“I am now.”

Olivia closed her eyes, and sighed deeply, allowing the tension of the last forty minutes to ebb away. She knew she could handle herself – she wasn’t M for nothing – but for those few minutes, when Vito had her pinned to the bed beneath the bulk of his body, she had been afraid.

Added to that fear was her worry for James. With his injured ribs, she’d feared the worst when Gianni had gone after him, but she should have known better. James was nothing if not resourceful – it was why he was her best agent, and when he’d burst into Tommasino’s cabin, she’d been so relieved to see that he hadn’t been hurt further in the scuffle with Gianni.

At least that she could see.

Being in his arms however, she could feel the heat radiating from his body; his skin hot beneath her cheek and against her breasts.

“I didn’t get the ice,” Olivia murmured.

James chuckled softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Your fever’s higher, James.”

“I know,” he replied, as he stroked her hair. “I’ll be all right, Olivia.”

She knew he would be. He’d bounced back from worse, but she could not help worrying. Even before the change in their relationship, she’d worried excessively about him.

Olivia shifted out of his arms, only just, then bent slightly, and began to press gentle kisses over his bruised ribs along the right side of his body.

“Olivia…” he moaned softly.

She smiled against his skin, and continued to kiss her way across his chest to his left side, and peppered soft kisses, along with occasional flicks of her tongue over his bruise mottled skin.

His fingers flexed against her waist, where his hands had dropped when she’d stepped back to trail her lips along his injured flesh, as she dragged her tongue over his nipple, and he moaned her name again.

Olivia kissed her way back up his chest to the underside of his chin, then hummed when he lowered his head to catch her mouth with his, and pulled her closer.

It was a surprisingly gentle kiss. Gentle but passionate, and it made Olivia’s toes curl as she pressed closer to him, sliding her hands up to grasp his shoulders.

A knock on the door interrupted them before it could become more.

With a soft smile, Olivia stepped out of his arms, and tugged her sweater closed, as James stepped over to the door, and opened it.

The young lady from the dining car stood in the corridor, holding a small bucket filled with ice, along with several hand towels draped over her arm.

She held out the bucket. “Your ice, ma’am.”

Olivia smiled, as James took the pail from her.

“I also brought these,” she held up the towels. “The conductor said you’d need them.

“That was thoughtful of him,” Olivia said, as James stepped aside, and gestured for her to enter the cabin.

The stewardess set them on the seat, then stood before Olivia as she reached into her pocket. “He also asked me to give you these.” She held out her hand, and in her palm were a couple of packets of painkillers. “They’re from the doctor.”

Olivia took them. “Thank you. And please thank Signor Rosato for me.”

“I will, ma’am.” She smiled again, then left.

James shut the door, then locked it once again, before turning to her, still holding the bucket.

“Here.” She handed him the tablets. “Take a couple of those, then tend to your ribs. I’m going to wash up, then we’ll rest until Rosato comes to get us.”

“All right,” James replied. 

Olivia walked over to the bathroom, stopping at the door when he called her name, and looked back at him.

“Need any help with that?”

Olivia rolled her eyes, then entered the bathroom as James chuckled.

Fifteen minutes later, she slid the door open, and stepped out of the loo. She was still wearing her knickers, and held a towel in front of her, over her chest. She glanced over at James to find him seated on the bench, reclining against a couple of pillows with his eyes closed, and two makeshift icepacks strapped around his torso against his ribs.

She tiptoed through the cabin to where she had left the bag with the clothes she’d bought earlier.

“God, you’re trying to kill me, is that it?”

She looked back over her shoulder to find his eyes open.

“Sorry,” Olivia apologized. “I forgot to bring the change of clothes with me.”

James gave her a tired smile as he nodded slowly, then closed his eyes again. “I’ll keep my eyes closed while you dress. It’s easier to do it out here, than in that cramped toilet.”

“You’ve already seen me naked, James.”

“Not fully. Not yet,” he replied in a low, tired voice. “Besides, why torture myself with watching you when I can’t do anything about until my ribs are healed.”

“Good point,” she agreed, lifting her bra from the hook by the bunk. She quickly got dressed, then grabbed the blanket from the bed, and sat beside him on the bench seat. 

James tilted his head toward her, and opened one eye to peer at her. “Olivia?”

“It seems foolish to curl up in the bed when we’ll be arriving at the station in less than an hour.”

“Agreed.”

“So I thought, if you don’t mind, that I would cuddle up with you.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

She quickly shifted onto her side, draping the blanket over her, and laid her head in his lap. Without looking back at him, she knew he was smiling, and released a contented sigh when he began to feather his fingers through her hair.

“Let’s get some rest, 007.”

“Yes, M.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Olivia.”

“Mmm…?”

“Rosato’s at the door.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up to see James gazing down at her with a sleepy smile. 

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to fall asleep,” she said softly, as she sat up.

“It’s all right,” he replied, stroking his hand up and down her back. “I rather liked having you close.”

Olivia smiled, and reached out to pat his knee. “I feel the same way,” she told him, then got to her feet, and walked over to the door, just as there was another knock.

She opened the door.

“Buongiorno, Signora,” Rosata greeted her.

“Good morning,” she replied.

“We are fifteen minutes from Karlsruhe Station.”

“Thank you. We’ll make our way to Tommasino’s cabin.”

Rosato lifted the brim of his cap in salute, then walked away.

Olivia closed the door, then turned to find James removing the wet towels that had served as his compresses. She stepped over to the bench, and lifted the bag of clothes onto the seat, then reached inside to pull out the blue shirt she’d purchased for him.

“Here.” She held it out to him.

“Thank you.” He took it from her.

“Do you need help putting it on?”

“I think I can manage.”

“All right.” She nodded, then made her way to the loo to fetch her dagger. When she returned to the cabin, James had the shirt on.

“See, told you.”

Olivia shook her head, even as a slightly amused smile tickled her lips.

“Would you like me to put that on for you?” he asked, glancing at the dagger in her hand.

“You just want to get your hands on my legs again,” she retorted.

“Damn right, I do!” James responded. “Better yet, I want them wrapped around me.”

“James…” 

“I know.” He grinned unrepentantly at her. “You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

Olivia smiled fondly at him. “No.”

She grabbed her canvas bag from the floor, and checked the small interior pocket, verifying the USB drive was still there, and was relieved when her fingers touched the device. 

“Are we taking everything?” He gestured to the bag of clothes.

Olivia shook her head, as she slipped the dagger into the bag. “No. We’ll just leave it. I’ll let Rosato know so they can just toss it all.”

“You’re the boss,” James said, as he pulled on his shoes, then stood. “Do you have everything you want?”

Olivia glanced around the cabin, then nodded. “I think so, yes.”

“Then we should get moving,” James told her, crossing over to the door.

She slung the bag over her shoulder, and nodded. “Yes, let’s go.”

James opened the door, and together they left the cabin, walking quietly down the corridor to Tommasino’s cabin.

Carlos smiled at them when they approached.

“Any problems?” Olivia asked the young guard.

“No, Signora.”

“Good.” Olivia turned to James. “I want you to stay here. I’ll go meet the extraction team, and bring them back here to take them off the train.”

“All right.”

Olivia’s hand brushed against his, and then she walked away.

**~*007*~**

Olivia waited, with barely concealed impatience, for the slow rolling train to come to a complete stop.

She was tired.

Tired, and ready for this, all of this, to be over and done with, and for her and James to be home.

Especially James.

She was worried about him. He’d still been quite feverish when he woken her up; the heat radiating from him as she lay curled up against him. She had begun to wonder if he was more hurt than he was letting on, as James was wont to do, and was anxious to get him to Six’s doctor to have him looked over.

Peering through the window, Olivia smiled when she saw a familiar face standing with the extraction team on the platform.

Moments later, the train lurched as it finally stopped. She heard the lock cycle, then slid the door open, and stepped out onto the platform, heading for the team.

“Bill!” She greeted her Chief of Staff with a large smile, as the younger man hurried over to her, followed by the six men from the team.

“Ma’am,” Bill replied, and Olivia could see the relief in his eyes as he grinned at her. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.”

The smile suddenly fell from his face as he took a good look at her. “What happened?”

“Don Tommasino got a little fresh,” she told him.

Disbelief filled his eyes, and he gestured at her cheek. “That’s a little fresh?”

“It’s nothing. You should see him.”

Tanner shook his head. “I have a feeling it’s going to be an interesting report.”

Olivia smirked as Tanner glanced around.

“Where’s 007?” he asked.

“He’s with the security guard, watching the prisoners,” Olivia answered him, then addressed the team. “I am sure Tanner has filled you in.” All six men nodded. “I want this done as quietly as possible so as to not disturb the other passengers.”

“Yes, ma’am!” They chorused.

Olivia nodded. “All right, let’s go,” she told them, then turned on her heel, and began walking back to the train, Tanner falling into step beside her. “How have things been with Mallory?”

“Fine,” Tanner replied.

There was something in his voice that had Olivia glancing at him, and she was surprised to see him blushing slightly. She made a mental note to ask him about it later, once they were all safely back at Six.

“So does that mean you’re going to stay on as Chief of Staff when I retire?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I am very pleased to hear that, Bill.”

“Thank you, M.” Bill smiled.

No more was said as they boarded the train. Olivia led them down the corridor to Tommasino’s cabin.

“How is James?” Tanner asked her quietly.

“You know James.”

Tanner nodded. “I know James.”

“He’s hurting a lot more than he’s letting on,” Olivia told him. “Not only did Vito’s men beat him rather severely, he was also in two more brawls.” She glanced at Tanner, and finished in a soft voice, “I’m very worried about him.”

Before Tanner could reply, they spotted James and the security guard. James spotted them at the same time, and Bill watched as he carefully pushed himself away from the wall as they neared.

“Bill.” James greeted his friend with a tired smile.

“James.”

“Any change?” Olivia asked.

“No, ma’am.” James shook his head. “Tommasino’s still unconscious, but alive. Gianni’s still tied up, and swearing a blue streak around his gag.”

Olivia acknowledged him with a nod, then turned to the men standing behind her. “Remember what I told you. Quickly but quietly.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the lead agent replied.

James unlocked the door. “Watch the one on the bench, Rees. And don’t worry about being too gentle with him,” he told the agent.

“Understood, 007.” Rees nodded, and the six men quickly slipped into the cabin.

“James.” Olivia admonished.

“What?” he asked with faux innocence.

Olivia rolled her eyes, and shook her head.

“How close are the choppers?” James asked Tanner.

“About two kilometres. In a field.”

“That’s a little farther than I would like,” he said, glancing at Olivia.

“We had no choice,” Tanner explained. “It was the only place we could safely land the helicopters.”

“How did you get here from the field?”

“We…” Tanner paused. “… _borrowed_ the farmer’s pickup.”

Before anyone could say anything more Rees appeared in the cabin’s doorway.

“We’re ready to go, ma’am,” he informed them.

“Very good,” Olivia said, then looked at Tanner. “Since you know the way, you take the lead. Rees’ team will follow, and Bond and I will bring up the rear.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tanner nodded.

Olivia turned to Carlos. “Thank you for your help.”

The young man smiled. “You’re welcome, Signoa.”

James held his hand out to the guard. “Yes, thank you, Carlos.”

“You’re welcome.” Carlos took his hand, and they shook.

Olivia met James’ eyes.

“Let’s go home.”

**~*007*~**

James kept a watchful eye as Rees and his team loaded the stretchers carrying Tommasino and Gianni onto the first helicopter, and strapped them down. He knew Rees knew his job, in fact he was one of Six’s top agents; it was Tommasino and Gianni that Bond did not trust.

He would not board the other chopper with Olivia until he knew for certain that the two prisoners were safely secured.

“We’re ready here,” Rees told him, standing in the hatch of the chopper.

“You’ve got them strapped in there tightly?”

“Yeah.” Rees nodded.

“All right.” James acknowledged him with a brief nod, then turned, and crossed over to the other chopper where Olivia and Tanner were waiting for him, talking quietly. “Rees has Tommasino and Gianni secured. We’re good to go.”

“Good. I could really use a shower,” Olivia remarked dryly.

“So could I,” James agreed.

“After you’ve been seen by the doctor,” Olivia told him with a pointed look.

James sighed, and nodded.

“We should be going,” Tanner said, gesturing to the open hatch of the chopper, before scrambling inside, then holding out a hand to Olivia. “Ma’am.”

Olivia placed one hand in Tanner’s, and grabbed hold of the side of the side of the chopper with the her other hand, as James stepped behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t you dare!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” James responded, as he grasped her waist, and with Tanner’s assistance, helped her into the chopper, then climbed in after her.

He straightened, and found Olivia giving him a dirty look, as she lowered herself into one of the seats. He stepped over to her and helped her with the harness as Tanner took one of the seats opposite them.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked him softly, as the helicopter began to come to life.

“I thought we’d already discussed that,” he replied in an equally soft voice.

“If you keep pulling stunts like that, we sure as hell won’t be. You could have hurt yourself more.”

“Like what? I was being a gentleman,” he told her, as he snapped the buckle into place, then checked that it was firmly locked. “Besides, I only helped keep you steady, nothing more. You got into the chopper yourself.”

Olivia shook her head.

Satisfied her harness was secure, James handed her a pair of ear defenders, then sank down onto the seat beside her, grateful the sound of the helicopter’s whirling blades, muffled his groan of pain. The ride in the pickup, over less than smooth roads, had jarred his ribs something awful.

He quickly strapped himself in, then pulled on his own pair of ear defenders, and relaxed back against the seat.

“We’re ready back here.” Tanner’s voice sounded through the headphones.

“Very good, sir,” the pilot replied.

Moments later, James felt the chopper rise into the air. He glanced at Olivia, and found her watching him in the dim light of the cabin, and then, much to his surprise, she reached out, and placed her hand over his where it rested on his thigh, entwining her fingers with his.

His surprise must have shown on his face, as Olivia smiled at him, and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, as she held his gaze.

He’d been uncertain how she wanted to handle the change in their relationship; if she was ready for others to know, or if she planned to keep things between them quiet until after she retired, which he knew would be happening in just over a month’s time.

But as James continued to stare into her eyes, he realized she had no intention of hiding. He knew she would not flaunt it, but neither would she hide it.

Taking his hand as she’d done, in front of Tanner, was her way of telling him, as was the open and honest expression in her eyes.

He returned the pressure of her fingers, letting her know he understood, then closed his eyes, and rolled his head back.

“Wipe that grin from your face, Tanner.” Olivia’s voice sounded in the headset.

James smirked.

“That goes for you, too, 007.”

James squeezed her fingers again. “Yes, M.”

His grin grew.

**~*007*~**

“I wish I didn’t have to wake him,” Olivia said softly. “This is the most sleep I think he’s managed since I got him out of Tommasino’s villa.”

“Maybe we can get Dr. Aiken to sedate him after he examines him,” Tanner said.

“Not bloody likely,” James muttered, as he slowly opened his eyes.

“It would do you a world of good,” Olivia told him. “You could use the rest.”

James shook his head, as he released the harness. “No. I’ve had too many drugs forced on me recently.”

Olivia frowned. How could she have forgotten that Tommasino had had James drugged when he’d held him in that cell. She blinked when she felt his fingers grasp hers, and focused on him once again.

“I’m sorry, James,” she apologized in a quiet voice.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he told her, as he got to his feet, then squeezed her fingers again. “I promise you I will allow the good doctor to check me over.”

Olivia’s eyes grew wide with surprise, and not without a lot of doubt.

“I promise,” James repeated. “But I am not staying in medical.”

“We’ll see what the doctor has to say,” Olivia replied, giving him a look that told him she would not put up with any argument from him.

James sighed, and nodded.

“Rees and his team are loading Tommasino and Gianni into the ambulance for transport to Six,” Olivia filled him in as they climbed out of the helicopter - Olivia refusing to let James assist her - and made their way to the waiting car which would take them from Northolt to Vauxhall. “We’ll follow them.”

“No escort?” James asked, glancing around.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, than several cars pulled up. 

“You were saying?”

He glanced down at her, and she couldn’t help chuckling a little as a wry, amused smile curled the corners of his mouth before he returned his attention to the ambulance, watching Rees and his team carefully.

Olivia could feel the tension radiating off James’ body; knew it matched the tension in her own, and she knew neither of them would be able to relax until they had Tommasino and Gianni safely ensconced in one of Six’s holding cells.

“Rees knows what he’s doing, James.”

“I know he does.”

“But you still think you should be over there handling it.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “However, it’s probably better that I’m not.”

“Why is that?”

James turned to her. “Because I still want to kill him for what he did to you,” he told her quietly. “And I would have done so on the train if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“I know.”

Before anything more could be said, Rees stepped out of the ambulance, and looked over at them.

“We’re all set here, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Rees,” Olivia said, then turned to Tanner. “Let’s be on our way.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tanner replied, reaching for his mobile as he opened the car door, and climbed into the front seat.

Olivia looked up at James when she felt his hand on the small of her back as he opened the door for her.

“I’m not staying in medical.”

Olivia snorted as she climbed into the car.

**~*007*~**

“The good news is, your ribs are not broken.”

Olivia looked at James, and it was only because she knew him so well that she could see the relief in his eyes.

“A couple are cracked,” the doctor continued, “and they are most certainly bruised, but they’re not broken.”

“What about his fever?” she asked, turning her attention back to the physician.

“Chest x-rays indicate a minor chest infection,” Doctor Aiken told her. “And given everything 007 has endured the last two weeks, I am surprised it’s only minor. A course of antibiotics and some rest will help keep it from becoming a major infection.” He looked at James. “Nothing you don’t already know, 007.”

James nodded.

“And you’re actually going to listen to the doctor this time, right, 007?” Olivia said, emphasizing each word with a tap of her fingers against his arm, giving him a pointed look.

A slow grin spread across James’ face, as he responded, “Yes, M.”

She rolled her eyes, but could not completely keep the hint of a smile from her lips.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Aiken remarked dryly, with the same sense of humour as his mother, Beatrix.

“So will I,” Olivia echoed, chuckling at the insulted look on her favourite agent’s face, which slowly gave way to another grin.

“I have a very good reason to heed the good doctor’s advice,” James said, holding her gaze.

Olivia felt a warm flutter in her belly, and smiled outright. “Yes, you do.”’

“Sorry I’m late.”

All three turned to see Mallory and Tanner walking toward them.

“I was on the phone with the Prime Minister,” he explained. “Apparently it was brought to his attention that the head of MI6 had been out of the country, and was involved in a recovery mission. I received an earful.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Olivia told him.

“The hell you are,” Mallory replied with a smirk.

Olivia smiled broadly. “You’re right. I’m not.”

Mallory shook his head, a smile of his own curling a corner of his lips, before it changed into a frown as he looked closely at her. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain later.” She waved away his question, and asked one of her own, “What did the PM have to say?”

“He was very dismayed, his word, to hear that you had ignored protocol, and gone after Bond yourself.”

“Which we anticipated would happen, yes.”

Mallory nodded. “I explained that not only had you returned in one piece, along with our missing agent, but that you had also recovered the stolen USB drive with the defense program.”

“Coming back with drive made all the difference, I’m sure,” Olivia said.

“He was quite pleased about that, yes,” Mallory replied. “He was also surprised to hear that you’d brought Tommasino in as well.”

“I’m sure he was.”

“Which reminds me.” He turned to the doctor. “How is he doing?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, but we’ve managed to stabilize him,” Aiken answered. “The stab wounds were deep, but thankfully, there was no damage to any internal organs. He has a broken nose, two black eyes, and a fractured cheek.”

Olivia glanced at James, and they shared a look.

Neither one felt any remorse for the hurt they’d inflicted on the man.

“And speaking of the Don, I should go check on him,” Doctor Aiken told them, then focussed back on James. “I will return in a little while with some painkillers for you, as well as some antibiotics, and then we’ll see about getting you settled in for the night.”

Olivia felt James’ body tense; she looked at him to find him shaking his head. “James - ”

“I’m not staying,” he cut her off. “You know how I feel about hospitals and doctors,” he said, then glanced at Aiken. “No offense, doc.”

“None taken,” the doctor responded with a knowing smile. “You really should stay in medical. At least for one night, for observation,” he said, then looked at Olivia. “It really would be best, but short of sedating him, I really can’t force him to stay, so I will leave that to you to sort out, ma’am.”

“I’m not staying,” James repeated, as Doctor Aiken walked away, a defiant expression on his face.

“We’ll see,” Olivia told him, then turned back to Mallory, to find both him and Tanner watching them with slightly bemused smiles, which they quickly smothered when she looked pointedly at them.

Mallory cleared his throat, then gestured to her bruised cheek. “You were going to explain how that happened.”

It was a rather poor attempt at a diversion on his part, but Olivia allowed it, as she was not in the mood to get into an argument with James, especially in front of Tanner and Mallory.

“Tommasino was under the impression that I owed him.”

“Owed him? Owed him what?”

“Sex,” James said flatly, answering Tanner’s question.

“He forced himself on you?” Tanner’s eyes were wide with concern as he voiced the question she could see in Mallory’s eyes as well.

Olivia shook her head. “He attempted to, which is how he ended up with two stab wounds in his side, and a deep cut on the back of his hand.”

“Don Tommasino learned the hard way that you don’t fuck with M!”

All three turned sharply to look at him.

“What?” James asked with faux innocence.

Olivia shook her head. “James.”

He grinned unrepentantly at her. “I’m only stating the truth.”

“How did Tommasino get on the train?”

Olivia looked at Tanner. “We believe he got on at Lucerne.”

“But how?”

“We figure he drove non-stop from Como,” James said. “We realized we were being followed - ”

“ _James_ realized we were being followed,” Olivia interjected.

“ - and we figured the car had a tracker on it.” James continued. “So we ditched the car in Lugano, and caught the train.”

“Why didn’t you just fly out from Ambri as planned?” Tanner asked.

“Tommasino’s men were following us.” James reminded him. “If we’d continued on the road to Ambri, there was a greater chance of them catching us. We’d hoped to lose them by catching the train in Lugano, but unfortunately they spotted us.”

“And they told Tommasino,” Mallory concluded.

Olivia nodded. “But as you can see, it all worked out in the end. Both Bond and the defense program have been recovered, and we made it back safe and sound.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t as easy as that,” Mallory said.

“No. It wasn’t. But I will save all that for my report,” Olivia told him. She turned to look at James. “I have a few things I need to take care of. If you promise not to give the medical staff a hard time, I won’t make you stay here overnight.”

James smiled, and she saw the relief and gratitude in his eyes. “I’ll be good,” he promised.

She held his gaze a few moments longer, then with a slight nod, and a small, affectionate smile, she stepped away from the bed, then walked away; Mallory falling into step behind her.

**~*007*~**

James’ eyes followed Olivia was she moved across the room, and lingered over her form as she paused to speak with the doctor who had just returned to the ward.

“I’m glad you’re home, James.”

He reluctantly pulled his eyes from Olivia to find Bill still standing beside his bed.

“Thanks, Bill.” James smiled at his friend, before returning his gaze to Olivia. “You should not have let her come after me.”

“Have you met our boss?”

A small snort escaped James. “Point taken.”

“She was very worried about you,” Bill confided in a quiet voice.

“I know,” he replied. “When she appeared in that cell, I thought I was hallucinating. But I wasn’t; she was really there. In that moment, I was both angry and relieved.” He paused, then looked back up at his friend once again. “You still should have stopped her from coming.”

“Gareth and I did try to talk her out of it,” Bill said. 

“Gareth?” James raised a curious eyebrow as he looked at his friend.

Bill opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Bill?”

Tanner nodded, and James’ smile grew. He’d sensed his friend’s interest in Mallory several months ago. “I’m happy for you, Bill. Just a word of advice, work on not glowing.”

Bill chuckled. “I’ll do that.”

“Good.”

“Promise me you’re not going to hurt her, James.”

James was not surprised by the comment, and had been expecting it; especially after Olivia had taken his hand on the chopper in front of him. “I’m not going to hurt her, Bill,” he replied quietly but earnestly.

“Tanner.”

Both looked up, and over at Olivia’s call of Bill’s name, to find her and Mallory waiting.

“Coming, M,” Tanner called back. “I’ll see you later, James. Get some rest.”

He nodded absently, his attention on Olivia, who was looking straight at him.

“Remember what I said, 007.”

“Yes, M.”

He saw a small smile flitter across her lips before she turned, and left medical; Mallory and Tanner following, then relaxed back on the bed, as Doctor Aiken made his way over.

“Here are your painkillers, and the antibiotics,” Aiken said, holding out a small paper cup, and a glass of water.

James took them, and peered at the pills, then looked up at Aiken.

“No sedative,” the doctor reassured him. “M told me you won’t be staying.”

James nodded, dumped the pills into his mouth, then washed them down with the water. “Doc, would it be all right if I made use of the shower? I’m feeling rather grungy,” he asked once he’d swallowed the tablets.

“Of course.”

“Also,” James said, as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, “do you think you could find me a pen and a pad of paper?”

Aiken looked at him curiously.

“I was told not to give the medical staff a hard time, so I thought I’d work on my mission report.”

“You really don’t want to stay here, do you?”

“No.” 

Aiken chuckled. “I am sure I can find that for you.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” James smiled, then carefully slipped off the bed to stand, wriggling his toes against the cool tile floor. He looked at the doctor. “Lead the way.”

Aiken smiled, and the two men walked in silence through the medical ward to the showers. 

“If you need anything, or if you experience any pain, pull the emergency cord,” the doctor told him once they were standing before the shower stall, and pointed to the red cord hanging in the corner. “Either myself or a nurse will be here to assist you.”

James nodded. “All right.”

“Enjoy.”

“I will.”

The doctor smiled, then left.

James reached into the stall, and turned on the taps, adjusting the water to the right temperature, then slowly stripped off his clothes before stepping into the shower.

A low groan of pleasure escaped him when he stepped beneath the hot spray of water.

Christ, that felt good, he thought, bowing his head, and letting the water beat down on the back of his neck. He stood that way for several minutes, simply enjoying the feeling of the water soothing his tired, battered body.

“007, are you all right in there?”

James raised his head, and opened his eyes, wiping the water from his face. “Yeah.”

“I’ve brought you something clean to wear.”

“Thanks, doc.”

“You’re welcome,” Aiken replied.

James heard the doctor walk away, then decided he had better wash up, especially as he did not know how long Olivia would be, and he wanted to be ready to leave with her. He reached for the bar of soap, and began lathering up his body. 

Glancing down, as he ran his hands gingerly over his sides, he shook his head at the colourful bruising across his ribs and chest. It really was some of the most spectacular bruising he’d ever received, no wonder Olivia was so concerned.

Ten minutes later, he turned the water off, and reached for the towel.

He dried off, carefully running the towel over his tender sides, then slung it over the shower rod when he was finished. He looked down at the pile of clothes the doctor had left for him: a black tracksuit like the one he wore when he was recertifying for his Double-0 status when he’d come back from his three month pout in Turkey.

He also spotted a travel sized deodorant, and smiled as he made a mental note to thank Aiken once he was back in the ward. Grabbing the deodorant, he opened it, and quickly put some on, then proceeded to pull on the tracksuit.

Once he was dressed, he padded barefoot back to the bed he’d been earlier.

“Feeling better?” Aiken asked, walking over with a notepad and pen in his hand, just as James settled himself back on the bed.

“Much. Thank you.”

“Has the pain eased any?”

“Some yes,” he replied, realizing that it had indeed lessened some.

“Good,” the doctor said, then held out the notepad and pen.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. If you need anything, just buzz.”

James nodded, and then Aiken walked away.

He pulled the cap off the pen with his teeth, then began to write.

**~*007*~**

“James…”

He sighed at the soft touch against his temple, and tuned his head as he heard his name whispered again. His eyes slowly opened to find Olivia standing next to him with a tender smile on her face as she lightly brushed his temple with the backs of her fingers.

“Hi,” he murmured sleepily.

“Hi,” Olivia replied. “It’s time to go.”

“What?”

“It’s time to go,” she repeated. “Unless you would like to stay here.”

“No!” James shot up, then gasped in pain as the sudden move jolted his ribs.

“James!” Olivia grabbed his shoulders. “Easy now,” she said, and eased him back against the pillows.

“Shit! That hurt,” he muttered, as he took a couple of very slow, deep breaths.

“Better?” She rubbed his arm.

He nodded.

Several moments later, after he had taken a few more deep breaths, Olivia surprised him by cupping his cheek. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” he replied. She lifted her hand from his cheek in a slow caress, as he slowly sat up, then stood; stepping into his shoes.

“He really should stay overnight, ma’am,” Doctor Aiken reminded her. He stood at the foot of the bed along with Mallory and Tanner. “His ribs have really taken a beating.

Olivia nodded. “I am aware of that, Doctor. But we both know 007 will not rest easy here, and after all the drugs that were forced on him by Tommasino, I cannot, in good conscience, order him to be sedated against his will.”

“I understand that, ma’am. But - ”

“Doctor.” She cut him off. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Yes, M.”

Olivia looked up at him, and he smiled gratefully. “Ready when you are, ma’am,” 

She smiled.

**~*007*~**

“Are you hungry?” Olivia asked James as she locked her front door.

“No. A nurse brought me a sandwich earlier,” he answered. “What about you? Did you get a chance to eat?”

“I did, yes,” she told him. “I had a sandwich as well.”

“Tanner?” he asked, a small smirk curling his lips as he followed her through her flat.

“Tanner,” she replied, tossing a smirk back at him over her shoulder.

“Speaking of your Chief of Staff…” James began.

Olivia stopped just outside the door of the guest bedroom, and looked up at him. “You saw it, too?” 

He grinned, and nodded. 

“He’s not hiding it very well is he?”

“No. Not at all,” James agreed. “To be fair, he’s fancied Mallory for some time now.”

Olivia smiled. “I know,” she said, walking into the bedroom.

James chuckled, and followed her into the room.

“I’m happy for them,” she remarked. “I hope they can make it work.” She finished, grabbing the pillows from the bed, then turned to find him looking at her with a curious expression on his face. “Doctor Aiken told me that you needed to sleep in a reclined position. I don’t have enough pillows on my bed,” she explained.

“You want me to sleep with you?”

“Yes. Unless you would prefer to sleep here.”

James shook his head. “No. I would prefer to sleep with you in your bed,” he told her, as he smiled, and closed the distance between them.

Olivia returned his smile. “Good.” 

He took the pillows from her arms. “Lead the way.”

Olivia snorted. “As if you don’t already know where it is.”

“I do,” he admitted. “But all those times I’ve broken into your flat over the years; this one and your old one, I’ve never once gone into your bedroom.”

“You never…”

“Never.”

“Why not?”

James shook his head. “It’s not important.”

Something in his eyes had her laying her hand on his arm. “James? Tell me.”

He sighed, then said in a low voice, “Your husband.”

“I don’t under - ”

“You shared that room with your husband.”

Olivia shook her head, her brow furrowing. “I still don’t - ”

“It’s where you made love with him,” he told her, cutting her off again. “I couldn’t bring myself to go in there knowing that.”

Her heart suddenly began to beat just that little bit faster. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant; he couldn’t possibly be… not of her and Reg, and yet, what she could see in his eyes gave her reason to think it was exactly what he meant, and she found herself whispering, “Why?”

“Because I was jealous.”

Her gaze softened.

It was.

Oh, James… she thought, her heart now swelling with love and affection.

“And after he passed away, and you moved here, I still couldn’t do it,” he continued. “I did not want to intrude on your memories. I’ve never cared before about a woman’s marital status, you know this.”

Olivia nodded; she did know.

“Pursuing those women made things easier; I didn’t have to worry about them getting clingy,” he said. “As I’ve already told you, when I first met you, I didn’t care that you were married, I just wanted you.”

She nodded again, remembering their conversation on the train.

“And yes, I flirted, I couldn’t help myself, but after I realized how much you loved your husband, and after I realized that I’d fallen in love with you, and that I cared about what you thought of me, I could not do that to you; could not put you in that position. And that’s why I could not bring myself to enter your bedroom.”

She shook her head in wonder, touched by his thoughtfulness. She had loved her husband. Very much.

Olivia lifted her hand from his arm to cradle the side of his face. She stroked his cheek as she smiled tenderly up at him. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t all chivalrous on my part, believe me,” James remarked with a wry grin. “I told you. I was also jealous. I wanted to be the one in your bed, the one making love to you.”

Olivia’s smile grew. “And you will be in my bed,” her thumb stroked his lips, “tonight.”

“Unable to make love to you,” he grumbled, but she could see there was no anger behind it, just frustration.

“It won’t be too long a wait, James. You heard the doctor.”

“What makes it worse is that I can’t even hold you properly while we sleep,” he groused.

Unable to help herself, Olivia chuckled. “We’ll make do, James,” she told him, then rose up on her toes to brush a quick kiss over his lips. “Come on,” she said, stepping away from him, then walked out of the guest room, and moved down the hall to her bedroom; James following her.

She pointed to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

“Which side is yours?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replied, then crossed the room to her ensuite bathroom. “I won’t be long.”

**~*007*~**

James watched Olivia disappear into her bathroom, then walked over to her bed.

He looked down at it, contemplating it for several moments.

“It’s a new bed, James.”

His head snapped around to find her regarding him from the bathroom, her head sticking out from the slightly open door. He hadn’t heard the door open. She smiled at him, then ducked back into the bathroom, and closed the door.

James shook his head. He did not know how she knew what he’d been thinking, but she had.

A new bed. That pleased him.

He had not relished the thought of making love to her in the same bed she’d shared with her husband, had not wanted to compete with, nor replace the memories she had of her time with Reginald.

James did not begrudge Olivia her memories - no, not at all. In fact, truth be told, he was rather envious of them.

No. He simply wanted for them to have their own time to make their own memories in what would hopefully be _their_ bed from now on.

He grinned at the thought, then dropped the pillows on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed, before walking around to pull back the blankets. Once that was done, he picked up the two pillows and piled them up on the right side of the bed.

Toeing off his shoes, he nudged them under the bed, then sat down with a sigh. He hated to admit it, but he was exhausted, the events of the last several days - the last few weeks really - catching up with him.

He pulled his sweatshirt off, being mindful of his ribs, then tossed it to the end of the bed, stopping there when he remembered he had no underwear on under the tracksuit bottoms. Normally he wouldn’t care, he preferred to sleep naked, but given the situation, having to wait for his ribs to heal before Olivia would let him make love to her (which he actually agreed with), sleeping in pyjamas was probably the better option.

But as he had no other clothes with him, he’d just have to sleep in the tracksuit bottoms, and in the morning, they’d have to pop round to his flat to get him a change of clothes.

He closed his eyes, exhaustion stealing over him once again; it was then he heard the shower going, and all at once, images of Olivia, naked and wet, filled his mind, and he groaned.

In his mind’s eye, he could picture the water sluicing over her magnificent breasts, and down her not so flat stomach to catch in the white hair covering her pussy, curling the soft hair into tiny ringlets.

He swallowed hard as a thought occurred to him, and the corresponding images flooded his mind. What if Olivia kept her pussy bare? He groaned again as he felt his cock swell.

It made no difference to him whether her pussy was hairless or not; both images were arousing, and he longed to get his mouth on her either way. And, he thought with a grin, he longed to get his cock inside her as he made love to her.

James realized, with a touch of amusement, that he was panting softly, and shook his head at himself. He needed to get his body under control before Olivia emerged from the bathroom.

He took a deep, steadying breath, and willed his erection to subside.

Without warning, his mind flashed to Olivia as he’d found her after her confrontation with Tommasino: her dress ripped, her breasts splattered with blood, dagger in her hand, and he inhaled sharply, remembering the almost crushing rage he’d felt when he’d burst into the cabin to find her that way. He’d wanted to kill Tommasino, and nearly had with just his bare hands, but she’d stopped him.

James sighed.

That certainly put a damper on his ardour, he thought with a scowl. Not quite what he’d had in mind to calm his prick but, he glanced down at his lap, it had certainly worked.

He never wanted to see Olivia in that kind of situation, her life in danger, ever again. Three times had been three times too many, and he wasn’t sure his heart could take another scare like that.

“Why the frown?”

James looked up to see Olivia exiting the bathroom. Her hair was tousled, and it was obvious to James that she hadn’t bothered to brush it after towelling it dry. Her face was pink from the shower, and free from make up, the bruise on her cheek standing out even more now. She was wearing a simple pair of black cotton pyjamas, the top of which she was still buttoning up as she walked toward him.

As he watched her fingers work the buttons, he realized why he was frowning, and as she neared him, he reached out to grasp her hips, and guided her so that she was standing between his legs.

“James? What is it?” She rested her hands on his shoulders, stroking his neck with her thumbs.

He reached up, and began to unbutton her top.

“What are you doing?”

James did not answer as he parted the sides of the pyjama top to reveal her breasts. “I thought as much,” he said, his fingers tracing the teeth marks on the side of her left breast. “He bit you.”

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s all right, James. He didn’t break the skin, and Dr. Aiken gave me a Tetanus shot, just in case.”

“I hate that he hurt you,” James told her.

“They’re superficial. They’ll heal.”

He nodded. They would. Just as his injuries would heal. He leaned forward, and lightly pressed his lips to the mark on her breast.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing it better,” he murmured against her skin.

He felt her heart begin to beat a little faster, and smiled as he continued to rain gentle kisses to her injured flesh, much as she had done to him on the train several hours earlier. His hand slipped around to cup her breast, and he heard her gasp when he brushed his thumb over her nipple.

Unable to resist, he pulled back just enough to take her nipple in his mouth.

Olivia inhaled sharply, then whispered his name, “James…” 

James smiled when he felt her hand on the back of his head, her fingers threading through the short strands of his hair, as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, moaning when he felt it draw into a tight bud beneath his tongue.

He suckled her for several minutes, then released her nipple, and rested his forehead between her breasts when he felt his prick begin to stiffen once again. “I’m sorry…” he whispered.

“For what?” she asked, stroking the back of his head.

He kissed her soft skin, then raised his head, tilting it back to gaze up at her. “I hadn’t intended for it to go that far.” 

“I wasn’t complaining.”

James chuckled.

“I do want you, James,” Olivia told him, her voice a little huskier than usual, as she feathered her fingers through the hair at his temples. “I just…”

“Want me healed. I know,” he finished when her voice trailed off.

She nodded. “Yes.”

He leaned into her caress. “I am finding it more difficult than usual to resist you, Olivia,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “Knowing now that you want me, as much as I want you, and that you love me, too, is making it harder.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“But I _will_ wait. When we make love, all my attention will be focused on you, and in giving you pleasure. I don’t want anything, especially my ribs, to distract me from that… from you.”

Her mouth curled into a beatific smile as she leaned down and kissed him lovingly.

“And then I am not letting you out of bed for a week,” he mumbled against her lips.

Olivia laughed out of the kiss, and straightened up. She looked down at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement and love. “You’re incorrigible, James.”

“Yes, I am,” he agreed, as he began to button up her pyjama top. Once he was finished, he dropped his hands to her waist, then gently guided her backwards as he stood. “My turn,” he told her, as he stepped around her, and headed for the bathroom.

“There’s a spare toothbrush on the vanity.”

“Thanks,” he called back as he closed the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, after having relieved himself, then washed up and brushed his teeth, James stepped out of the bathroom into a darkened bedroom. 

Olivia had turned out the bedroom light, turned on the lamp on the night stand, and was propped up on her side in the bed, beneath the blankets, waiting for him.

He crossed the room, and slipped into the bed beside her, lying back against the pile of pillows.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

“As I can be, yes,” he answered.

Olivia smiled at him, then turned away to turn out the light, plunging the room into near darkness, only a hint of the rising sun peeking through the thick curtains on the window, before she rolled back over to face him.

“How are we going to do this?”

“Very carefully,” she replied, sidling closer. Rising up on her arms, she gave him a quick kiss, then shuffled down in the bed so that she could lay her head on his thigh, and slipped her arm over and around his legs to rest her hand on his right hip.

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right sleeping like that?”

“Yes.” She nodded against his thigh, then patted his hip. “Try to get some sleep, James.”

James slid his fingers into her hair, resting his hand against the top of her head. “Sweet dreams, Olivia.”

She murmured the same back to him, already half asleep.

James smiled, and closed his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

A soft kiss to the nape of her neck brought a sleepy smile to her face, and a contented sigh escaped her when a second kiss followed the first.

A third kiss was placed on her bare shoulder, then a fourth to the crook of her neck before warm lips closed around her earlobe.

“Good morning,” he whispered in a husky voice, his breath hot against her ear.

Olivia opened her eyes, and tilted her head back to find James’ beautiful blue eyes, soft with sleep, gazing down at her.

“Good morning,” she whispered back. “What time is it?”

“Just after five,” he told her. “Time to get up.

“Whose bright idea was it to get up so early?” she asked grumpily, rolling over to snuggle deeper into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

James kissed the top of her head. “Yours.”

Olivia groaned, and burrowed even closer. “Christ, what was I thinking?” she muttered, then felt and heard James chuckle. “Oh, shut up,” she grumbled, which made him laugh more.

He rubbed her back, his hands hot against her skin, and she sighed happily. She loved the feeling of his hands on her. 

“I have no problem staying in bed a little longer if that’s what you want.” 

She smiled at the suggestive tone of his voice, then moaned when his hands slipped down to curl around the cheeks of her arse, stroking her through the silk of her knickers.

“We could pick up where we left off last night,” he suggested in a low voice.

Olivia felt a rush of warmth spread through her.

They’d spent a lot of time talking, getting to know one another away from work over the last few weeks while his ribs healed; they had also cuddled and kissed quite a lot as well, while trying not to let things go too far. For the most part, they’d been successful, coming close to, but not crossing the point of no return.

Until last night.

She shifted back to look at him, and could see the desire in his eyes.

It hadn’t been the first time they’d got swept away; lost in each other; lost in the pleasure of each other’s touch, and in everything they felt for one another, but last night they very nearly hadn’t stopped. It wasn’t until James was about to remove her knickers, leaving them both naked, that he had been the one to stop them.

_“James?” She panted, looking down her body at him._

_Desire hummed through her veins, her body feeling more alive than it had in years. Her sex throbbed, damp with want; her breasts swollen and aching from the touch of his hands, as well as his mouth._

_She wanted him._

_Without saying a word, and without removing her knickers, James crawled up beside her, and gathered her into his arms. His cock was hard against her silk covered pussy, and she could hear the frantic tattoo of his heart; could feel it pounding in his chest beneath her ear where she rested her head, and she knew hers was beating just as fast._

_“James?”_

_“You said we had to wait until I got the all clear from the doctor,” he told her, and she was pleased to hear a slight tremor in his voice._

_“Which you will get tomorrow,” she pointed out, teasing his nipple with her fingers, and pressing her hips more firmly against him._

_A half-groan, half-chuckle escaped him. “Now who’s impatient?”_

_Olivia lifted her head from his chest, and looked down at him. “You’re serious about waiting, aren’t you?”_

_James nodded. “We’ve made it this far. One more night won’t kill us.”_

_She snorted. “Who are you, and what have you done with my James?”_

_He chuckled outright this time, and reached up to cradle the side of her face. “I just know you’re worth waiting for.”_

_“Damn, you’re good,” she breathed._

_He smiled, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “No, I’m in love.”_

Olivia smiled at the memory. After that exchange, they’d shared several more kisses, then James had pulled the blankets over them, and she’d snuggled into his arms, and they’d fallen asleep.

Her smile grew as she leaned in to kiss him. “I’m game if you are.”

A squeal of surprise escaped her when James suddenly rolled her onto her back, and covered her body with his, pinning her to the mattress.

“Such a tease,” James growled playfully, thrusting lazily against her.

“A little respect please, I am still your boss.”

“Only for a few more hours.”

Olivia swallowed hard. A few more hours. 

Later today, when she walked out of the SIS building, she would no longer be the head of MI6, but simply an ordinary citizen. She had mixed emotions about that. She’d given more than half her life in service to her country, and while she had always thought she might one day retire, she had never really thought it would happen, and yet, in a few hours it would be a reality.

Olivia wasn’t certain she knew how to be an ordinary citizen anymore, and the thought frightened her. 

She startled when she felt his thumb brush her cheek, and realized there were tears on her cheeks. She blinked and looked up into James’ concerned face.

“You’re going to miss it, aren’t you?”

Olivia nodded. “It’s all I’ve known for so long. I’m not sure I really know how to be just Olivia anymore.”

“You could never be _just_ anything.”

She smiled, stroking her hands along his sides, then admitted in a voice just above a whisper, “I’m scared, James.”

The worry in his eyes transformed into understanding. “I know you are. So am I.”

“You are?”

“Of course. Like you, I don’t know how to be just James anymore either. 007 is so much a part of who I am.”

She swallowed, his admission made her feel better, and helped to calm some of the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’re not alone, Olivia.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” James ducked his head to feather a kiss to her lips. “So why don’t we find out how to be just us together, hmm?”

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she was suddenly overwhelmed by the love she felt for him; her heart aching with the fierce intensity of the emotion.

“Make that our joint mission.”

She hummed an affirmative while nodding her head. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” James lowered himself down so that his body was flush with hers, his chest cushioned against her breasts, and he framed her face in his hands, as he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

“Mmm…” Olivia moaned, and opened mouth to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss, then moaned when he ended the kiss too soon. “No…”

“You’re the one who wanted to go in early.” He reminded her.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she said, lifting her head from the pillow in an attempt to catch his lips again, but he pushed himself up on his arms with a shake of his head. “James,” she whined, when he resisted her attempt to pull him back down to her, and instead rolled off her to sit up on the edge of the bed.

“I’m going to make some coffee,” he told her, glancing back over his shoulder at her. “Before I really do pick up from where we left off last night.”

A small smirk slowly found its way to her lips. “Spoilsport.”

“Nothing of the sort. I’m just following orders,” James replied, as he stood. 

Olivia snorted, as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Since when.”

James simply flashed her a grin before he turned away, then made his way across the room.

Olivia watched, her eyes locked on his backside as he strolled naked from the bedroom, and shook her head in wonder. He had absolutely no hang-ups about his body, and had no qualms about walking about the house without his clothes on.

 _“Saves time.”_ He’d told her the one time she’d mentioned it to him. Not that she was complaining.

James was extremely easy on the eyes.

He was not what anyone would call classically handsome, which was fine with her. She’d never really been attracted to the pretty boy type anyway.

James was, Olivia decided, falling back onto the bed, ruggedly handsome. And it was that quality she found attractive - at least physically - with his strong jaw, broad shoulders, and muscular build.

However it was his eyes that were his best physical feature, and what most people noticed about him first.

Those beautiful, incredibly blue eyes.

Hard and cold as ice, or hot and burning as fire depending on his mood, James had the most expressive eyes she had ever seen.

She loved his eyes.

Over the years, she’d seen them filled with overwhelming sadness and pain; watched them twinkle with laughter and amusement, or flash with mischief or anger. But over the last four weeks, his eyes had begun to shine with a different emotion: happiness.

And not just happiness, but also with love, and desire, and lust, and arousal… and all of them directed at her.

He also had a rather fine arse, Olivia thought with a naughty giggle, and licked her lips.

“Oi! Get that gorgeous arse out of bed, and into the shower, woman!” James shouted up from the kitchen.

Olivia laughed.

**~*007*~**

Olivia stifled a yawn.

Christ the man could prattle on.

The Prime Minister had insisted on a sodding ceremony, even after she’d sworn that no fuss needed to be made; that she would be quite happy to just hand the reins over to Mallory, then slip quietly away. But the PM vetoed that idea; said she deserved to be honoured properly.

And then the bastard had the nerve to not even show up personally, and had sent the Defense Secretary in his place.

The ceremony itself had been short, thank God, Olivia thought, as the majority of her work over the years had been deemed classified, but now she was stuck having to make small talk with the various ministers, and other government officials that were present.

At the moment, the Defense Secretary was monopolizing her time; droning on about how costly it was to run the SIS. It was all she could do to not roll her eyes. Did he really think she wasn’t aware of the costs involved? She had only been in charge of Six for the last two decades, and a Station Head before that.

She glanced around the room, looking for James, hoping he would come to her rescue this time.

“And don’t get me started on the Double-0s…” 

Olivia’s eyes narrowed at Foster’s comment, and she turned to regard him once again.

“Ah, there you are!”

Mallory suddenly appeared at her side before she could respond to the minister.

“Forgive me, Minister, but I need to steal Dame Mansfield away from you,” Mallory said to Foster. “There are few details I need to clear up in regards to some ongoing assignments before she leaves us.”

“Of course, M,” Foster replied, addressing Mallory by his new title.

Mallory smiled, then offered Olivia his arm. “Ma’am.”

Olivia slipped her hand in his arm, and allowed him to guide her away. “Good timing.”

Gareth chuckled. “I heard his remark about the Double-0s, and realized I had better step in before we no longer had a Defense Secretary.”

Olivia snorted. “The bloody man has no idea how much he owes to the Double-0s.”

“No he doesn’t,” Mallory agreed.

“Speaking of Double-0s, have you seen James?”

“He left a short time ago with Bill. He mentioned having to take care of something before the two of you left the building.”

Olivia nodded, then glanced up at Mallory. “About Bill.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Mallory said. “I promise you, I won’t hurt him.” He met her eyes. “I care a great deal about him.”

“I can see that. I can also see that he cares about you as well.” Olivia regarded him thoughtfully. “A word of advice. You’re going to make a deal with each other that what happens at the office, stays at the office, and vice versa with personal issues at home.” She shook her head. “Don’t. Because no matter how much you try to keep them separate, they won’t stay that way. But if you’re committed, truly committed to each other, you’ll be able to work it out, and find a middle ground.”

Gareth smiled. “As you and James were able to do.”

Olivia nodded. She couldn’t deny that her relationship with James had been simply professional over the years. There had always been that undercurrent of personal between them; the lines having blurred right from the start.

“If you can do that, both your professional and personal relationship will be all the better for it,” she told him.

“I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” Olivia patted his arm. “Because if you hurt Bill, James will kill you.”

Mallory chuckled, then nodded when he saw that she was serious. “I won’t hurt him.”

Olivia smiled, then glanced around the room, then looked up at him again when she saw that they had stopped near doors. “Now, I think it’s time I made a discreet exit. There’s something I need to take care of as well.”

“The commendations?”

Olivia nodded.

“They’re on your… I mean my desk,” Mallory quickly corrected himself at her pointed look.

She rose up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Gareth.”

“You’re welcome, Olivia.”

She flashed him a smile, then slipped out of the room.

**~*007*~**

The lift stopped, and seconds later the doors slid open.

Olivia stepped out of the lift, turned right, then began walking briskly down the corridor. A few moments later, she walked through the door to the section belonging to the particular group of Intelligence Officers she’d come to see.

She slipped quietly into the large office, and took advantage of the fact that they hadn’t noticed her, and observed them as they worked.

Every department of the SIS was important, but these ladies, and others like them who had once been active field agents, who had made countless contacts in various countries were the backbone of Six. Without them, the agents in the field would have far less information to work with.

She glanced down at the parcel in her hands.

Special commendations for their part in helping to retrieve the stolen defense program, as well as rescuing Bond.

Something these ladies most certainly deserved.

She’d thanked them, of course, but she felt they still deserved more than that, and more than the special service commendations.

“M!”

Olivia was drawn out of her musings at Lydia’s exclamation, and watched as the other ladies’ heads all snapped up, broad smiles on all their faces. She ought to correct Lydia, she knew, as she was no longer M, but she also knew it was simply habit, and one they would all get over soon enough.

She smiled as they pushed their chairs back, then got to their feet, and hurried over to her. Her smile grew as they stood before her, and she was surprised to realize that she had missed them. 

“The bruise has healed nicely,” Beatrix remarked once she was close enough.

She had especially missed Beatrix, Olivia thought as she reached up to touch her cheek. It had taken over a week and a half for the mark to fade away, and for it to stop hurting. Tommasino had hit her _that_ hard.

“Your son took excellent care of us,” Olivia replied to Beatrix, not surprised to see a proud smile come to the other woman’s face.

“Is it that time already?” Maisie inquired.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s the end of an era,” Imogen remarked, and the others murmured their agreement.

Olivia shook her head. “Hardly.”

“You don’t think so, but it is,” Beatrix told her. “You are the first female M. In a field that has long been dominated by men, and in what, sadly, still continues to be a man’s world.” She made finger quotes around the last two words. “You have paved the way for other female agents. Who knows, perhaps after Mallory, we’ll see another female M in the office upstairs.”

“One like your secretary, Miss Moneypenny,” Arabella said. “I do wish she had returned to the field. She was a good agent. Her talents are being wasted as a secretary.”

“I agree.” Olivia nodded.

“You should say something to her,” Gwendolyn remarked. “Or to Mallory.”

“I already have,” Olivia told them.

“Have you really?” Gwendolyn asked.

“Yes, I have.”

“Good. I hope they listen,” Arabella remarked.

“As do I,” Olivia replied.

“I don’t think you came down here to talk about Miss Moneypenny, though, did you?” Beatrix supposed.

“No.” Olivia shook her head. She glanced down at the box in her hands, then back up at the women before her. She looked at each one of them. “I wanted to thank you, all of you, for your help rescuing James.”

“There’s no need to thank us,” Beatrix told her, and the others quickly agreed.

“We all adore 007,” Maisie said, and once again the others agreed.

Olivia smiled. “I know you do.”

“Though not as much as you,” Beatrix commented with a knowing smile.

Olivia fought against the blush she could feel rising in her cheeks, then gave up. What did she care? She was no longer M, and James was no longer her agent. And, more importantly, she thought as her smile grew, and the flush coloured her cheeks, she loved James, and did not care who knew it.

“No,” she agreed. “Not as much as I do.”

Light twitters of laughter escaped the ladies, and Olivia shook her head. They were like a group of schoolgirls, and she told them so.

“We’re just happy for you,” Beatrix told her. “For both of you.”

“I know. Which is why I am so very appreciative of your help. And these,” she held up the box of medals, the special commendations, “cannot possibly convey how truly thankful I am to all of you, but it’s a start.”

She handed out a citation to each lady, then gave each of them a hug as well. When she was finished, she stepped back and smiled. “James and I would also like to take you all out for dinner.”

Smiles bloomed on all their faces.

“Even that is still not enough to convey how grateful we are to you.”

“So what are your plans now that you’re retired?” Lydia asked.

“To spend all her free time with her favourite agent.”

Olivia turned sharply at the sound of James’ voice to see him striding toward her with a large smile on his face, his blue eyes shining brightly.

“Isn’t that right?” James remarked when he reached her side.

Olivia was very aware of the ladies watching them intently, and simply replied, “Yes.”

Her smile grew when James’ smile became a grin.

He brushed his fingers against hers, then stepped away to embrace the ladies, and thank them, repeating her invitation to take them out for dinner. Once he had hugged each of them, he returned to her side.

“Was it a nice ceremony?”

Before Olivia could answer Arabella’s question, all the phones began to ring at once, and the ladies quickly hurried over to their desks to answer the lines.

“Where did you disappear to?” Olivia asked James in a low voice.

“I went to see Doctor Aiken about the results of the scan he performed this morning,” he told her.

“And?”

“I am the picture of health.” James smiled as he delivered the news.

“So that means…” Her voice trailed off as he nodded, and she unconsciously licked her lips.

His fingers laced with hers, and he lifted her hand to his lips. “I cannot wait to make love to you,” he whispered against her knuckles.

Olivia felt suddenly breathless as he looked at her with undisguised desire. “James…” she breathed his name, feeling an answering desire ignite within her.

He lifted her hand further, and placed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, then lowered her hand, keeping their fingers entwined.

“Is that all? Mallory said you left with Tanner.”

“I also finished packing up my office; Tanner helped. Then he and I cleared out the rest of your things, and brought them down to the car.”

“Thank you.”

He squeezed her fingers, then asked, “What about you? Did you speak with Doctor Hall?”

“I did.”

She’d spoken with Six’s psychiatrist the day after returning from rescuing James which was standard procedure once any mission was completed; James had seen him as well.

Both had had several more visits with the man in the intervening weeks since; James due to the excessive amount of torture and drugging, and her because of her altercation with Tommasino on the train, and his attempt to rape and kill her.

“He’s cleared us both,” she told him.

“So that’s it, then.”

“Yes.” Olivia nodded.

That was it.

She was no longer M, and he was no longer 007.

They were simply them. Olivia and James.

She felt his fingers tighten around hers, and she returned the pressure.

She was a little frightened as well.

“Together,” he murmured in a quiet voice.

Olivia smiled. “Together.”

They were prevented from saying anything further as the sound of handsets returning to their cradles echoed throughout the office. Moments later, the six ladies were standing in front of them once again.

“So, what _are_ your plans?” Lydia asked again.

Olivia glanced up at James, and the two shared a smiled, before she turned back to answer Lydia. “We’re planning to buy a boat, and sail around the world.”

“Oh! How exciting!” Maisie said.

“I’d get seasick,” Arabella commented dryly, which elicited laughter from everyone.

“Are you planning to do anything else other than sailing?” Gwendolyn inquired.

“Just to enjoy being,” Olivia replied.

“Being what?” Beatrix raised an eyebrow.

Olivia looked up at James once again. He smiled at her, and his grip on her fingers tightened as he answered, “Simply us.”

“Yes,” Olivia murmured, giving James a loving look. “Simply us.”

James’ mobile suddenly began to ring, bringing a curious expression to her face. He reached into his pocket, and withdrew his phone, and answered the call.

“Yes, Bill?” He paused to listen to Tanner. “Thanks for the warning” Another pause. “Yeah. Right now. Thanks, Bill.”

He disconnected the call, then pocketed the phone.

“Well, ladies, it’s been fun,” James began, “but we have to be going.”

“James?” Olivia’s brow furrowed.

“That was Bill. He was just giving us a head’s up; Foster’s looking for you. He’s on his way down here.”

“Christ!”

“Exactly.” James nodded, then without warning, he scooped Olivia up into his arms, much to the delight of their audience.

“James, what you doing?”

“Rescuing your arse!” he answered, as he began walking toward the back of the office, and the second exit.

“007! Put me down!” Olivia demanded.

Over James’ shoulder, she could see Beatrix and the other ladies grinning broadly as they followed slowly behind.

“As of two hours ago, you are no longer my boss, so you can no longer give me orders,” James told her.

Soft snorts of amusement could be heard behind them.

Olivia smirked as she looped her arms around his neck. “Admit it, you like it when I order you around.”

James stopped, and held her closer. “Yes I do.” He ducked his head to brush a kiss over her lips. “Let’s go home, and you can order me around all you want… _M_.”

Olivia laughed, then fingered the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes, 007. Let’s go home.”


End file.
